Until the Stars Fall from the Sky
by fairytale ideals
Summary: "They had it wrong, because you have wings. You're not just another one of the pets. You're an angel, fallen from heaven." Wing!fic.
1. Part One

**This is something I have been working on since October. It was originally meant to just be a one-shot with a couple thousand words, but as I wrote, it would not let me be concise. It is mostly written now, so I thought I might post the beginning to get me in gear for the homestretch, which is to say that there most likely will not be an excessively long wait for updates. Also know that I am, well, _extremely_ nervous to actually post this.**

**Title is from "Baby I'm Yours" by Arctic Monkeys.**

* * *

><p>Blaine Anderson was rich, and most people assumed that being rich solved all your problems.<p>

That was not true.

To be fair, things had started off alright. Blaine had grown up the image of a perfect son. He behaved in school, he always obeyed orders, and he was attentive in church. He could even occasionally quote Bible verses, if pressed. But then came the problem of the strange, _unacceptable_ feelings he got once puberty hit.

Ever since he had come out at the age of fourteen, his life had been a long series of problems. His father had spent the longest time trying to convince him that he wasn't actually gay, and that it was actually just a phase that plenty of boys went through. Surely, he'd get over it soon enough.

He hadn't gotten over it, though, and he'd even started using his affinity for the Bible to dispute people when they tried to point out to him the error of his ways. And so Mr. Anderson decided that he would try to keep his son's sexuality under wraps. After all, the idea that he could raise something so disgusting was just _ludicrous,_ wasn't it?

Blaine didn't want to conform to his father's standards, though, and instead let anyone who wanted to know that yes, he was capital G-A-Y gay. It had, of course, led to his becoming a social outcast with a rainbow, glittery target on his back, but really, of course, it was his own fault.

He finally got a respite from the blame, hate, and bullying once his father allowed him to transfer to Dalton Academy. Blaine knew that his father had his own reasons for sending him to Dalton, but he did his best to not think about it as he fell in with the Warblers, who accepted him just as he was. None of them blamed him for his sexuality, because they didn't see it as something that one should be blamed for. After all, who ever gives someone the blame when something _good_ happens?

He had been forced to go home for the winter break during his junior year at Dalton. He spent most of the break holed up in his room, skyping with his friends and doing pretty much anything but paying attention to his father.

One morning, though, he was sitting at the breakfast bar eating his cereal and watching the news with his dad. The news was, generally, something safe for them to watch. They could watch it in silence and hope nothing controversial came on.

That morning, of course, was different than all the others, when a story about winged people came on.

People with wings had come to the public eye within the past decade or so, though no one was sure how long that had managed to hide before then. They had hidden with good reason, though, because once they had been found out, society had been quick to use them to their advantage.

Having a winged person as a pet became a status symbol. Only the richest people had them, and if you had one, everyone you knew felt _terrible_ about themselves. It was amazing.

Additionally, of course, since these pets were anthropomorphic (they _weren't_ humans, though, and never say they are, because that thought makes people sad), you could do whatever you wanted with them, and no one would be disgusted by your bestiality (the protestors, of course, would be disgusted by your inhumanity, but society did their best to keep them quiet).

"Blaine, I think it's about time you got a pet of your own," his father said, as nonchalantly as if he was saying how nice the weather was.

He nearly choked on his cereal. "What?"

"I'm going to get you a pet," he said, nodding slowly. "I think it would benefit you."

It didn't occur to Blaine until later that day that his father might have had an ulterior motive for buying him a pet. Since it had been brought up over breakfast, Blaine had been finding himself thinking more and more of how he probably didn't even really want a pet (they were so much work , and _chatty_), he hadn't even thought of why his father would even offer.

That is, until he found himself walking down the rows of caged pets, each of them staring out at him with their dead eyes.

"There's one that I've had my eye on for you for a while now," his father told him, and it was then that Blaine realized something: the pet was a female. It had to be; why else would he spend so much money on something for his disappointment of a son? "It'll probably take some training, but I think you'll find that the effort is worthwhile."

Suddenly Blaine was filled with complete and utter dread. He almost yelped as one of the pets, a female with long dark hair and wings that looked like they were made of leather, reached out at him, her sharp nails catching what little light there was in the facility. The lights were kept dim, of course, so that people couldn't as easily see any imperfections in their potential pets, as well as the poor conditions they were kept in.

But then his father stopped in front of a cage, gesturing for Blaine to look.

To his surprise, the figure in the cage was definitely male (though, to be fair, society tried to avoid allowing the pets to go by genders, regardless of what they were). There wasn't much more he could tell, due to the pet holding up its wings, most likely to obscure itself from view. Blaine couldn't help but think that if he was an angel, he would do the exact same thing.

Seeing as they were the only thing Blaine could really see well, he allowed himself to take in the sight of the pet's wings. They were feathery, much like angels always looked like in the storybooks he had read as a child. Unlike the angels in those storybooks, though, these wings were a deep shade of chocolate brown. Leaning forward to try and see clearer, he thought that the pet's wings might have matched its hair, but with the dim light and the pet's efforts to keep itself hidden.

One of the workers came forward, hitting the bars of the cage with some sort of metal stick to get the pet's attention. "Twelve-twenty-five-two, you've got visitors!"

The pet winced, its wings drooping as it turned to face Blaine. He thought that he had never seen anything so sad-looking, until he looked up into its eyes. They were a bit hard to see in this light, but there was no mistaking the pure anger in those blue eyes that otherwise would have been quite pretty.

Immediately, Blaine knew that this was the one he wanted. It wasn't like all the others: there was life in its eyes, and it didn't really matter to him at that moment that the emotion in those eyes wasn't exactly a positive one.

Reluctantly, he looked away from the pet and over his shoulder at his father. "But Dad, what about your reputation?" To be honest, it hurt him to ask, but he wanted to clear his mind of any guilt surrounding this _now_.

"More and more people are buying pets of the same sex," he answered simply, and though his tone was one of nonchalance, but Blaine knew that this was his own little way of extending an olive branch.

"Thank you," Blaine said softly, then looking back at the pet.

"I'll go pay for it and you can take it out to the car, alright?" At those words, the worker signaled another to let the pet out of the cage, and led Mr. Anderson off to fill out the paperwork.

Blaine watched, honestly feeling a bit dumbstruck, as the worker grabbed a leash and a ring of keys, let out his new pet, and put the leash on it (some of them had a tendency to get vicious when let out of their cages, and one could never be too careful). He handed the leash to Blaine and, just like that, walked away without a word. Blaine looked at his pet for a second before deciding that he wanted out of this dark, smelly place as soon as possible, and made his way back to the exit, his new possession lagging behind him.

Once they were outside, the leash was pulled taut. Blaine looked behind him to see that his pet was looking around with wide eyes, his jaw slack.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, careful to not sound harsh for fear of scaring it. After all, he wanted to be a good owner.

For a second, they just stared at each other. The blank look his pet was giving him made Blaine panic: what if it didn't speak English?

"I…" it started meekly, "It's just been so long since I've seen sunlight." Its voice was rough and it coughed before adding, "Or, well, light at all."

It was Blaine's turn to stare. That voice. It was soft and nervous, the product of however long he had spent in the pet facility, with, if one trusted the protestors (which one should never do), brutal punishments if he ever spoke out of turn (though of course they rarely got a turn). But Blaine could still hear traces of what most likely was his normal voice, and it was _perfect_.

The pet's blue eyes went wide with worry. "Sorry, Master, I—" But Blaine held up a finger to silence him, taking a moment to just appreciate the winged boy in front of him. The color of its hair did, in fact, match the color of its wings. It was brushed across its forehead in a way that made Blaine think that it may have tried to style its hair but didn't have any product to do such a thing with.

And then, of course, there were the wings. He'd seen pictures of all kinds of wings: feathered, fluffy, leathery, anything you could think of. And maybe it was just the fact that this was the first pet he'd seen up close and personal (and the bias of the fact that this one was _his_), but he thought these were the most beautiful wings he'd ever seen. They were on the larger side, and Blaine had no doubts that it could entirely hide its body with those wings. It was also clear that it had put in the effort to keep the wings neat. Unlike some of the pets on the news and protestors' videos, there were no haphazard or off-colored feathers.

"You're an angel," he said breathlessly.

"What?"

"They had it wrong, because you have wings. You're not just another one of the pets. You're an angel, fallen from heaven."

"What makes you say that?"

"You are _beautiful_," he said, reaching out and touching the pale skin of his face. He tried not to notice the fact that he shied away from his touch. "And you have feelings as clear as anyone on the streets. With all the other pets, there's nothing in their eyes. Nothing."

"They have thoughts," he said quietly, "they're just too scared to have feelings anymore." The confidence in his voice grew as he added, "Besides, they say that the longer you stay in the _facilities_, the less you are able to care. You lose all hope."

"How long were you in there?" Blaine asked, feeling nervous about the answer.

He shrugged. "I was nine when they found me, but I've lost track of time, Master, sor—"

"Blaine," he said. "My name is Blaine. You don't have to call me _that_. Hell, we're probably the same age."

"Alright, Blaine," he said.

He blinked at his pet. "You have a name, too, right?"

"My number is twelve-twenty-five-two."

"No, I mean, your _name_," Blaine said. "What your parents called you."

He bit his lip, his wings curling around himself. "It's my understanding that I don't have a name," he said softly. "They told me I didn't get to keep my name when they found me."

"Do you remember what your name was?"

He nodded slowly, looking down at the ground and wringing his hands.

"Hey," he murmured, using his hand to gently raise his chin. The other boy's blue-green eyes were wide and nervous, but they still made Blaine's heart jump. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. The boy stiffened, and after a few seconds he drew back.

"Kurt," he said softly. "My name is Kurt."

Blaine stepped away from Kurt and started leading him towards the car in silence, feeling completely swept over with guilt. He had always heard that pets liked it when they were kissed, and Kurt seemed to think that he was just another pet. But, once again, Blaine had been wrong and now someone was upset.

The ride home was spent in silence.

* * *

><p>Once they got home, Blaine gave Kurt a tour of the house, highlighting places like the kitchen and the bathrooms. Finally they made their way to his bedroom, where he sat down on the edge of the bed. Kurt stood rigidly in the middle of the room, watching Blaine carefully.<p>

"If you're going to do something, is it within my rights to ask you to get it over with now?"

Blaine didn't want to think of the implications of Kurt's words, which were the first words that he had spoken since they had left the facility. Instead, he just gave Kurt a smile, and said, "Just calm down."

The look Kurt gave him and the way he shuffled his wings indignantly said in no uncertain terms that calming down was not something he was planning on doing. Silently, he crept over to the corner of the room, which contained a chair and a bookshelf. He sat down on the chair, crossing one leg over the over as he looked over the books.

After a moment, he made a noise of surprise, pulling a book from the shelf. "The Bible?" he asked, glancing over at Blaine.

He nodded. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, feeling a bit self-conscious.

Kurt shook his head quickly. "No, Mast—_Blaine_, it's just surprising," he said. "The Bible and homosexuality don't really mix that well."

"What do you even know about that?" he asked. The comment came out more biting than he had intended it to be, and Kurt winced, drawing his wings in tighter around himself.

After a moment, Kurt's soft reply came: "They let us read sometimes."

"Really?" Blaine asked, raising his eyebrows.

Kurt nodded. "Weird, isn't it? I mean, take Fahrenheit 451 for an example. Getting rid of books did them a whole lot of good in terms of destroying human thought."

"They were counting on all of you to not be human," he replied softly.

An odd expression that Blaine couldn't read crossed Kurt's face for a second, until he turned away and opened the old, worn book. "I've heard several interpretations of this chapter, and I'm sure you have, too," he mumbled, flipping through the pages, obviously in search of something in specific. He moved his wings as he skimmed the pages, as if flapping them. Blaine wondered if he even realized he was doing it. "But that's not terribly important, because I am almost positive you've never heard _this_ interpretation before."

"Here," he said, his wings stopping in their motion and snapping up as he grinned at Blaine. "Genesis, chapter nineteen."

He went on to read in his soft and, in Blaine's opinion, beautiful voice, a story that Blaine had, indeed, heard countless interpretations of in his time.

It was the story of two angels that arrived in Sodom one night and were greeted by Lot, Abraham's nephew. Though they had intended to spend the night on the streets, Lot insisted that they came back to his home. After a fine dinner, they were preparing to go to bed when all the men of the town came to the door and insisted that Lot bring the angels to them so that they could "know them."

At this part, Kurt sighed and looked up through his lashes towards Blaine on his bed. "I'm sure you know the implications of the phrase 'to know them,'" he said.

When Blaine nodded, he looked back down at the dog-eared pages of the book in his hands. "I'm going to skip over this next part and get to the important thing about this chapter." He continued to read about the angels telling Lot that if he had any relatives in the city that he should get them out, because the Lord was going to destroy it. Though there was more after that, he closed the book and put it back in its place.

"Why did you read that to me?" Blaine asked.

"I've heard it said that the city was destroyed because all the men there were gay," he said. The way his eyes flickered downward made it clear that Kurt disapproved of something about this, but he continued on without comment, "While some others believe that the city was destroyed because all the men residing in it were rapists. I'm sure you've heard those interpretations." For the sake of his argument, he left out the fact that the book of Ezekiel said that Sodom's sin was that its people were arrogant and selfish. After all, what person ever made a good argument without leaving a few facts out?

"But you said that I'm an angel," Kurt said. "And when it comes right down to it, this story is about a bunch of guys wanting to rape some angels, and they were destroyed." He said no more, just gave Blaine a sad look before saying softly, "Is it within my rights to request a shower?"

After a moment of dumbstruck silence on Blaine's behalf, he nodded vigorously. "Of course," he said. "This is your house, too, now, and you don't have to ask for things like that."

Kurt looked confused for a second before standing up and making his way toward the door. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Blaine bit his lip, then called out, "Kurt."

One porcelain-skinned hand rested on the doorframe as Kurt looked over his shoulder at Blaine, one eyebrow raised.

For a second, he almost forgot what he was going to say. At this moment he had a clear view of Kurt's chocolate-colored wings spread wide, and those blue eyes looked back at Blaine, for once not filled with fear or anger, just curiosity. It was progress, at any rate.

"For what it counts, I am almost certain that you _are_ an angel. You can choose to believe me or not, but most ordinary _pets_ wouldn't have had the guts to say something like that to their so-called _master_. You did, though."

Kurt turned away as soon as he was sure Blaine was finished speaking (with all the respect due from a pet to its master, regardless of how irresponsibly unorthodoxly Blaine was treating him).

After he was gone, Blaine spent a few minutes simply staring at the space in the doorway he had been occupying. He wasn't sure what exactly had stirred him so deeply, but he knew he no longer was a fan of the concept of keeping people with wings as pets. Maybe it was seeing firsthand how bad their conditions were, maybe it was the fact that they really _didn't_ have any indications of thought in their eyes.

Then, of course, there was the fact that Kurt had made the (albeit reasonable) assumption that Blaine would rape him as soon as they got a moment alone. Blaine wanted to assure Kurt that he had no intentions of doing anything like that to him, regardless of what his father's intentions for the pet had been, but it was something that was hard to say out loud. And, Blaine reasoned _naively,_ his lack of action was probably enough to indicate to Kurt that he was not about to be raped, right?

He wasn't even sure if his brain was working right or not anymore. After all, he'd spent the last few years of his life shocking people into silence with his Bible knowledge when they tried to use it to _cure him_ of his _disease_. And yet, here came a boy who, if he had ever been to church at all, could not have possibly gone since he was quite young, and yet was also capable of using the Bible to make a case just like the best of them.

A feather on the floor caught his attention, and he grabbed it. Laying back in his bed, he ran his fingers over the soft brown feather, deciding that his father had done him a bigger favor than he would ever fully realize.

* * *

><p>Blaine woke up to someone singing. For a moment he felt like Eric from The Little Mermaid (yes, he enjoyed Disney movies from time to time, so sue him), waking up, confused, to the sound of singing. He rubbed his eyes and opened them back up to the world.<p>

The singing, which, now that he was awake enough to understand words, even as a _concept_, he realized was a song he didn't recognize. Additionally, the voice was masculine, yet high enough in pitch that it could have been mistaken for being feminine if you weren't listening close enough.

He looked over to see Kurt sitting on the floor, staring out the window and singing. It was the loudest Blaine had ever heard him be. He had just decided in that moment that he would be just as happy to lie in bed and listen to Kurt sing and do nothing else for the rest of his life when his angel looked over at him. As soon as Kurt realized that Blaine was awake, his jaw snapped shut.

"That was beautiful," Blaine said.

"Thanks," Kurt said quietly. Wringing his hands, he added nervously, "When I got back from the shower, you were had fallen asleep. You looked cold, so I tucked you in."

"Thank you," Blaine replied, an easy smile coming to his face. No one said that Kurt _had_ to tuck him in. That probably meant that, in some way or another, he did care about him. "What was that that you were singing before?" he asked.

The corners of Kurt's mouth twitched up, and Blaine wished he'd just let himself smile already. He was bound to have an amazing smile. "It was a song some of the elders wrote," he said. "I spent most of my free time with them. Since they aren't being sold, the workers don't pay half as much mind to them, so they were so full of energy. Not to mention they had a lot of great stories to tell."

For a second, Blaine felt a pang of jealousy towards Kurt. After all, the 'elders' had obviously been a group of father figures to Kurt, whereas he had had only one father, who had been cold towards him for the past several years. But then Blaine felt guilty for thinking it, remembering that Kurt, as was the case with all the other pets, had been taken from his family and home when he was just a little kid.

"Kurt?" he asked.

"Yes?" Kurt answered, standing up.

"Do you remember your family?"

"I..." Kurt frowned, his wings drooping sadly. "Yes." He turned away from him then, and Blaine felt bad that he had said yet another thing to upset Kurt.

"Sorry," he said. "As you can see, I have a tendency of shoving my foot in my mouth."

"You do what with your foot?" Kurt asked, looking back at Blaine with a confused look on his face.

"It's a saying," he said, blinking.

It was that moment, right then, that Blaine started to get an idea of how much Kurt had missed out on while he was stuck in the facility.

It was also in that moment that he decided that he would try to give Kurt a little bit of his life back.

* * *

><p>After much consideration, Kurt spent the night on a couch in Blaine's room. Blaine had intended for Kurt to sleep in his bed with him, as most pets and their masters did, but the idea obviously made Kurt feel uncomfortable, and uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted Kurt to feel. So he had put a pillow and a blanket on the couch and let Kurt sleep there. He had considered giving Kurt the bed since he was taller, but he realized that he was having enough trouble calling Blaine by his name and not by 'Master', so sleeping on his bed while he slept on the couch was probably not something Kurt wanted to do.<p>

At ten am, Blaine woke up ready for the day. He got dressed in the bathroom and wandered over to the couch. He reached out to shake Kurt awake before he realized that his wings covered most of his body, and he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch Kurt's wings. He had heard that some pets were picky when it came to who they let touch their wings.

"Kurt," he said. "_Kurt."_

He watched a hand come out from under a mahogany wing and rub at his eyes. "Hm?" he asked sleepily.

"Get up, we have something to do today," he said brightly, grinning at Kurt. When he winced, Blaine added quickly, "You'll enjoy it, I promise." He paused, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I keep digging this hole deeper and deeper, but you're just going to have to trust me that I'm not doing anything untoward to you, and you _will_ have fun."

Kurt hesitated, looking at him as if he was trying to figure out what Blaine was planning on doing.

"Come on," Blaine said as he stood up, sounding remarkably like a child that wanted something from their parent and it was just taking way too long for them. He grinned at Kurt, and though he would never admit it, he may have been bouncing a bit with excitement. He wasn't sure why he was so excited, but he _was_.

Slowly, Kurt got up from his seat, and for a second he was concerned that Blaine might literally explode from happiness.

* * *

><p>An hour later (for someone who hadn't had much of a say in anything that happened in his life, Kurt was awfully vocal about how much time he needed to get ready and how he should not be rushed) they were headed out the door, and walking down the street.<p>

"You know, at some point we really should take you shopping," Blaine said offhandedly, smiling and waving at a neighbor that was staring out the window at him and Kurt. He realized that his elderly neighbor was probably staring at Kurt and that was rude, but at the moment he didn't particularly care. "Because the clothes that came with you are _dreadful_." After the words came out of his mouth, he realized two things about what he had just said. The first was the fact that clothes 'came with' Kurt made it sound like he was a toy doll or something. It was bothersome to realize that to some people, that was what pets were: dolls _and not only the kind that sit on the shelf and look pretty_. The second thing he realized was how _gay_ that sounded. Yes, he was gay, and he owned it, but there were some lines that he usually didn't cross.

Kurt didn't say anything, though, so he kept talking, "The only problem I have is, where do you even get clothes for someone with _wings_? There aren't stores in the mall for that," he said. Frowning, he added, "That's probably a good thing, though. That is a _lot_ of human exposure, and there are a lot of bad people out there." He ignored the 'duh' look that Kurt was giving him. After a moment of silence, he said, "I guess I'll just Google it later." A pause. "Wait, was Google a thing back before you got… I don't even _remember_." Another short pause. "I seriously can't even imagine what life must have been like before Google was invented."

A smile had come across Kurt's face then as he walked alongside Blaine.

"That makes me nervous," he said.

"I think you were already nervous," he said softly. "Or else you probably would have stopped talking about five minutes ago."

Blaine frowned. "You weren't talking, and it just makes me feel uncomfortable when I'm talking to someone and they aren't talking back, so I just… keep talking," he said, reaching up to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck.

Kurt nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "I was sort of hoping you might tell me where we're going."

"You don't understand surprises, do you, Kurt?" he asked.

"I've never been a big fan of surprises, really," he answered quietly, and there it was again: that deep sadness in his eyes that Blaine wanted nothing more than to just get rid of if he only knew how.

He caught himself staring at Kurt and quickly looked away. "Well!" he said. "We're almost there, so I guess I might as well go ahead and tell you where we're going. We're going to a playground."

"A playground?" Kurt echoed.

"A playground!" he said brightly, a grin spreading across his face.

"If I may, um, why?"

"All in the name of fun, Kurt, all in the name of fun," he said.

Kurt opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, shaking his head slowly, the tiniest of smiles on his face. The rest of the walk was spent in silence, during which Blaine silently celebrated the victory of making Kurt smile, and wondered what it was that he was thinking about.

Once they got to the playground, Blaine held his arms out wide. "The world is our oyster, Kurt!" he announced.

"That or a playground," Kurt replied, "but who's counting?"

Blaine chuckled. "I like you like this," he said, smiling at Kurt. "You're a lot more relaxed than you were yesterday. It's nice."

Kurt turned away quickly, walking over to the swings and taking a seat.

It wasn't often in Blaine's life when he felt the need to curse. In general, he was a happy guy (also naïve, but let's not go there right now), and he didn't see much use in words like that. But in that moment, he would have loved to scream out a good 'shit' or 'dammit' or something of that kind. He couldn't do anything right with Kurt, it seemed, and it was driving him insane.

Blaine sighed, trying to figure out what to do. More than anything else, at this point, he just wanted Kurt to open up. Of course his endgame would be to actually have Kurt trust him, but Blaine was a firm believer in baby steps _and not because he's short, you jerk._

But there was no way he was going to just grab Kurt and throw him down a slide. No, most likely that would just piss Kurt off and make him _never_ trust him.

When Blaine was little, he would always get overwhelmed with jealousy when someone was doing something he couldn't, even if it was something that he hadn't wanted to do before. The same went for plenty of people, and sure, maybe they were older now, but maybe Kurt still had some of a little kid's mentality. After all, his childhood had been cut short, hadn't it? Operating with that logic in mind, Blaine sprinted over to the ladder on the back of the slide. He slid down the slide with as much energy and childish glee he could muster. He even squealed on his way down for added effect.

"Blaine, I know what you're doing," Kurt called out to him as he reached the bottom of the slide.

"Having a really fun time while you are sitting over there, missing out?" he said, kicking his legs out in front of him. "Yeah, I know."

Kurt shook his head slowly. "You're extremely mature," he commented.

"Life's too short to be serious all the time, Kurt," Blaine replied, "and I'm sorry that you can't see that."

Kurt raised one eyebrow, and stood up. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and besides, his master wanted him to play. All pets knew not to disobey their owners, and even if Blaine wasn't exactly what Kurt had been expecting, he still didn't want to do anything that might make him mad.

"Kurt! You came to join me!" Blaine said with a wide grin on his face as he leaned back against the slide to watch Kurt as he got to the top of the ladder.

Kurt looked down at him, a frown on his face. "If you expect me to use this slide, you'll have to get up," he said.

"Sure," Blaine said, rolling off the end of the slide and onto the ground.

"What are you doing?"

He looked around him, patting the ground around him. "Well, it seems as though I'm on the ground now," he answered.

"But you'll get mulch and dirt on your clothes," Kurt said, frowning.

Blaine propped himself up on his elbows. "So is that what you like? Clothes?" he asked. "Or are you just a neat freak?" When Kurt didn't answer, he went on to ask, "Neither? Or both?"

Kurt blinked. "Why does it even matter?" he asked, sitting down at the top of the slide.

"Well, Kurt," he said, moving to sit up. "I find you interesting."

"Why, though? I'm just a _thing_ for you to have," he replied.

One of Blaine's eyebrows went up. "Do you really think that, Kurt?"

Kurt hesitated. He had spent half of his life in a place where the idea that he was just an object, a possession, was drilled into his head at any opportunity. He had heard it so much that, despite his better efforts, sometimes on bad days he would lose his sense of self-worth and believe it.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly. When Kurt looked up at him, any trace of his goofy grin from just a few minutes ago was completely gone, replaced by a look of complete and utter concern. "You're just as much a person as I am." After a second, he added, "And to be honest, you're probably a much better person than I ever will be." He stood up, gesturing for Kurt to follow him.

He led them back over to the swing set, taking a seat. He watched Kurt sit down with care, pulling his wings tight to his sides around the chain then pulling them wider behind him, like he didn't want them to touch the chain. Blaine wanted to ask him about his wings, but he couldn't find the right words. He'd tried to find the words in his head, but nothing sounded quite right. _'Do you dislike touching things with your wings?'_

What the hell were the rules on being courteous while talking to pets about their wings? Someone really ought to have made a manual for this sort of thing. But then again, most people didn't much care about pets' thoughts and feelings.

Instead of anything that even vaguely got to the point Blaine wanted to get to, what actually came out of his mouth was, "Kurt, you have really pretty wings."

Kurt squirmed in his seat. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Blaine sighed, feeling like he was making backwards process. Running his fingers through his hair (in his excitement that morning he hadn't bothered with gel), he decided that he didn't much care if the question came out sounding odd. "I've heard that it feels weird when your wings touch things."

Kurt looked up at him. "Where did you hear that?" he asked.

Blaine looked down shamefully. "I… Before I got you, I had done some research into pets," he said quickly.

Kurt nodded slowly. "Well, I don't know what they're on about," he said. "My wings are… they're basically just about the same as any other body part. But you don't just rub all your body parts against everything, do you? And I don't like people touching them because it's, like… imagine somebody just reaching over and stroking your arm. It's weird. At any rate, I just don't like them rubbing up against things as a general rule."

"They might get dirty?" Blaine suggested, his grin from earlier creeping back up onto his face.

Kurt frowned. "Blaine, would you get mad at me if I called you an ass?" he asked.

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "Go ahead!"

"You are an _ass."_

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "You bet," he said. "But seriously, it was a fair assumption to make. You never answered me."

"I like clothes," Kurt said.

Blaine grinned. "Really," he said.

Kurt nodded.

"Well then we'll definitely need to take you shopping," he said. Looking up at the sky, he added, "I might even be able to get my mom to alter some clothes for you, with your wings and all." He made an awkward gesture with his hands behind his shoulders, as if his hands were wings.

Kurt could not have asked for a more endearing owner, and it was driving him _insane_. There had to be some big quirk that would show itself soon in a completely random, unexpected way that would make Kurt sick. He'd heard horror stories about terrible masters, and there was no way in hell that fate had thrown him a bone.

Blaine leaned his head against the chain of the swing he was sitting on. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

Kurt shook his head slowly. "It's nothing," he said softly.

Blaine sighed. "Is this just what it's going to be like?" he asked.

"What?" Kurt asked, furrowing his brows.

"We talk, you open up a little bit, and I feel like we've taken a step forward," he said, "but then you retract back into yourself and I feel like we've taken a leap backwards."

"I don't understand you at all," he said, shaking his head.

"And I don't understand you, either," Blaine replied. "But I'm trying. And it really seems like you're just trying to make this more difficult for the both of us."

Kurt didn't say anything in reply, just looked away.

"Okay, then," Blaine said with a sigh, watching his breath float away into the December air.

* * *

><p>A quick online search had led Blaine to a strip mall on the outskirts of town. It was the sort of place that he'd rather not go, which was an interesting thing, since the store he was going to sold exclusively clothes for pets, which were, of course, not cheap. One would think that a store like that would be able to find itself a better place, but then again, all the facilities were dirty and relatively hidden, too.<p>

Once he stepped into the store, leading Kurt by the hand, he was caught off guard by the dissonance between the area around the store and the inside. The walls were covered in damask wallpaper and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was nothing like what he had expected.

Clearly, Kurt was having the same thoughts. His mouth was slightly agape as he looked around the store, his eyes catching the light from the chandelier, and Blaine was _sure_ that it was impossible for those eyes to not take his breath away.

A brown-haired girl who looked to be in her early twenties weaved through the clothing racks over to them. "Hi there!" she said brightly. "I'm Megan, how can I help you?"

Out of habit, Blaine reached out and shook the girl's hand. She looked a little bit surprised by this action, but the smile on her face didn't falter. "I'm Blaine, and this is my pet—" He cut himself off before he could finish that statement. He knew that a lot of pets didn't get names, and if they did, they were usually posh, _obnoxious_ names. 'Kurt' was not only a name, but it was also a normal name for a _person_. "I'd like to get him some new clothes."

Megan nodded, stepping over to take a closer look at Kurt. "You picked yourself a keeper," she said, nodding appreciatively.

Blaine nodded. "Thanks," he said, though that comment had made him feel a bit uncomfortable. "So, could you help him pick out some clothes? I'm pretty much clueless in that area." He was. That was yet another reason why he loved Dalton: since everyone wore a uniform, no one had to know that he was fashionably challenged.

Kurt pouted. "I don't really need help," he pointed out. Megan's eyebrows shot up.

Blaine touched Kurt's arm lightly. "I know you don't," he said quietly. "But I thought you'd want opinions." Smiling at the clerk, he said, "He's pretty vocal." To be fair, he wasn't lying. Kurt was more vocal than the average pet, even though he was often too quiet for Blaine's tastes. He reasoned that this was probably because angels weren't accustomed to having to keep their thoughts to themselves, but Kurt was a shy angel.

"Oh, I've seen that before," she said. "New pets tend to have a lot of quirks that you can work out over time. You look nice and strong, though, I'm sure you can tame him." She grinned at him and grabbed Kurt's hand to show him to another section of the store, saying something about a new line of vests.

Blaine took a seat outside of the dressing room while Kurt and Megan spent the next hour or two going through outfit after outfit. He thought that all of them looked fine, but there always seemed to be something about this or that that they found objectionable. He decided to keep his mouth shut, of course, because the longer he watched the parade of clothes go by his eyes, the more he came to the conclusion that he just genuinely knew nothing about fashion.

In the end they went to the register with several hundred dollars' worth of clothes, and Blaine wasn't quite sure whether they had bought a _lot_ of clothes, or if the clothes were just more expensive.

"Have a great day, and feel free to come back anytime!" she said over her shoulder to them as they left. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Blaine." She winked, causing Kurt to mumble something under his breath that sounded like, "She realizes that you're gay, right?"

* * *

><p>"Why are you being so nice to me?" Kurt asked in the car on the way back to Blaine's house.<p>

Blaine glanced over at him. His angel's face was half covered by the new coat that he had been clinging onto since they had left the store. "What?"

"I've heard the stories," Kurt said, his eyes as wide as saucers. "I've seen others get picked. They get thrown around, grabbed at, erm, _invaded_, if you will." He shifted uncomfortably before going on, "But you haven't done any of those things. It's _terrifying_." As he went on, his voice became shakier.

"You're not like any of the other pets," Blaine said. "And like I've told you before, you are just… you're really interesting to me."

"You said…" Kurt blinked, and he rubbed away the tears that were forming in his eyes. He cleared his throat, finally bringing the coat away from his face. "Can I just… If I had been like the rest of the pets, would you have been this nice to me?" Blaine opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, "If I had been like any of the other pets, would you have… would you have _raped_ me?"

Blaine started, quickly pulling over to the side of the road. There was no way he would be able to have this conversation while driving and not crash. "Kurt," he said, meeting Kurt's eyes, which were currently staring him down, rimmed with tears, "I want to be clear about something. I didn't think I'd have to say this out loud, but let me just say that I'm not what you've come to expect of pet owners. I never had any intention of doing that to you."

"Raping me, you mean? Tying me down on your bed and—"

"No," Blaine replied. "You are just way, way too beautiful to have something like that done to you."

A tear slid down Kurt's cheek, and Blaine wanted nothing more than to wipe it away, but he felt like now would be a bad time to reach out to touch Kurt, even in the most innocent of ways.

Kurt pulled his wings tighter around himself (they had already looked cramped, and Blaine felt bad that he didn't have a larger car to accommodate Kurt's wingspan), saying softly, "You realize that if anyone else had bought me, then they would have seen it as a reason _to_ rape me?"

Blaine really, really wished that Kurt would stop saying that word. "Well, I don't know what you believe in, if anything, but I believe that He has a plan for all of us. And I think that we are a part of each other's plans."

For a moment, the car was silent save for the sound of Kurt's labored breathing as it, slowly but surely, evened out.

Finally, Kurt broke the silence. "That's really cliché," he commented.

"Well, I still think it, whatever you say," Blaine said. "Believe me or not, either way, you're still stuck with me."

Kurt rubbed at his eye. "Blaine," he said softly.

"Yes?" Blaine asked, his heartbeat speeding up. He knew that it would be good to clear the air, but this was terrifying.

"I… this is _really_ hard," he said, pulling his knees up to his chest, and seriously, why did he have to look so adorable and put upon when Blaine couldn't touch him, couldn't comfort him?

"What is?" Blaine asked, his throat going dry as he found himself suddenly flashing back to when his first (and only, but let's not go there) boyfriend had broken up with him because 'things were too hard'.

"_Everything_," Kurt replied. He leaned his head back against the headrest and added, "And it's all because of my wings. If it wasn't for my wings, then I wouldn't have to have hidden. I wouldn't have to wear some of the most awkward clothing ever created. I wouldn't—" he gasped for air, the tears starting up again. "I wouldn't be in this situation."

Blaine bit his lip, debating what he was about to say. Before he could stop himself, he said, "And what is this situation, exactly?"

Kurt lifted his head then, his mouth held slightly open. "This situation is… I…" he sighed, running a hand through his feathers the way most people ran their hands through their hair when frustrated or trying to think. Or maybe it was a nervous habit for him. Blaine wasn't sure which one it was, nor was he sure that he even wanted to know. "Blaine, I… a huge part of me really wants to trust you."

"Then why not?" he asked.

"Because the second I do, the second I let my guard down, I just know that you're going to, you're going to—"

And that was it. Blaine couldn't stop himself any longer. He reached out and gently touched Kurt's face. He felt a wave of relief rush over him when the angel didn't tense or pull away. "Kurt," he whispered. "Kurt, oh, _Kurt_."

He couldn't have told you how long he spent, softly caressing Kurt's face and whispering his name into the silence of the car. All he knew was that he only stopped when Kurt relaxed into the passenger seat, fast asleep.


	2. Part Two

**Meant to update earlier in the week, but I kept forgetting. I'm spending the weekend in NYC, so you can probably expect an update on Sunday evening. :)**

* * *

><p>The next several days were quiet. There was a bit of tension between them, though neither of them seemed keen to mention what had transpired on the side of the road. That said, Kurt seemed, to Blaine at least, to be more comfortable in the house. He liked to think it was because he was, in fact, allowing himself to start to trust Blaine.<p>

Regardless, Blaine still had a long way to go. And so, despite his last effort being a bust, he _was_ sure that this would work out. It had to.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine said to Kurt over breakfast on the third morning after the car incident. They had slept in and his father had already left for work (though there really weren't many times when he wasn't working, because he was just so damn _important_), so it was just the two of them.

"Hm?" Kurt asked, looking at him over the edge of his mug of coffee (yesterday morning, Blaine had finally gotten him to admit that he liked coffee).

"We're going to go do something today," he said.

"And what would that something be?" Kurt asked nervously.

"Ice skating!"

Kurt eyed him with a frown, but the look of puppy-esque excitement on Blaine's face told him there was no getting out of it.

* * *

><p>Two hours later found Kurt and Blaine at a frozen pond, Blaine sitting on the ground, excitedly chattering as he helped Kurt put on his skates.<p>

"—and Wes _hates_ ice skating, and I really don't see why," he said, lacing up the skate. "I mean, I fall down, too, sometimes, but I keep a good attitude about it. Then again, Wes is a bit uptight sometimes, but really he's a nice guy." He grinned, patting Kurt's feet. "Well, there we are!"

He moved to his feet, smiling at his angel. "Well?"

"How do I…?" Kurt asked, looking down at his feet in confusion.

Blaine chuckled, reaching both hands out towards Kurt's. "Would you mind if I…?"

"Go ahead," Kurt said, blushing a little at the fact that he had asked if he could simply grab Kurt's hands.

He beamed as he took Kurt's hands in his, pulling Kurt to his feet. "I take it this is your first time ice skating?" he asked.

"Well, I haven't had much of an opportunity before now," Kurt said.

"Oh," Blaine said, his face drooping for a second before he forced his smile back on his face. He was not, under any circumstances, allowing today to go wrong.

He slid them out onto the frozen water easily, suddenly grateful that he had had so much experience with this growing up, because he could feel Kurt shaking, as much as he seemed to be trying to hold himself steady. "Relax," Blaine said softly. "I've got you."

"This is weird," Kurt said, looking down at his feet, wobbling unsteadily, and looking quickly back up at Blaine.

He considered making a comment about the boy with wings saying that a regular activity was weird, but Kurt just looked too adorable for him to say anything that might make him upset.

For a while they just skated like that, Blaine guiding the both of them and making sure that Kurt didn't fall, and Blaine was silently thanking God for leading him to Kurt.

Suddenly Kurt's ankle twisted and he almost fell. Blaine urgently grasped onto Kurt, pulling him back up into a standing position.

"You okay there?" he asked.

Kurt looked up at him then with a grin on his face, one that reached up to his eyes. It was the first time Blaine had ever seen him look truly happy, and though he'd never admit it, the sight kicked up butterflies in his belly.

And Kurt's eyes, oh, Kurt's _eyes_. They would have stood out, vibrant and beautiful, against the cold, white landscape anyways, but with the pure happiness that was held within them was literally breath-taking.

Without realizing he'd done it, he'd loosened his grip on Kurt's hands and the other boy was falling backwards before he knew what was happening.

Kurt's eyes went wide and he stretched out his wings, flapping violently in an effort to regain balance.

"Oh, God, Kurt, I'm sorry," he said, reaching his hands out toward Kurt blindly, his eyes distracted by Kurt's wings suddenly fully stretched out.

"It's fine, I, ah, I should have tried to keep my balance better." He looked up at Blaine bashfully, slipping his hands back into Blaine's. "You know, if you want to—and only if you want to, don't think you have to—you could touch my wings," he said, giving Blaine a meek smile.

Blaine's eyebrows rose sharply. "I—Kurt, are you sure?" he asked.

Kurt nodded slowly, looking down at the ground. A blush had risen up on his cheeks. "Yeah," he said, "but like I said, you really don't have to, I just thought, I don't know, it was stu—"

"_Kurt_," Blaine said, slowly pulling his right hand from Kurt's grasp. "It's not stupid, and I would love to touch your wings." Blaine reached up slowly, his hand shaking as he reached up towards Kurt's wing. He knew how big a deal this was, recalling Kurt's earlier comment about not liking it when other people touched his wings. As soon as his fingertips made contact with a brown feather, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Blaine's fingers trailed across the soft feathers, and Kurt stretched his wings out widely, constantly giving Blaine's fingers somewhere further to go.

They stood there for a few minutes, his fingers trailing up and down Kurt's wings, and neither of them said anything. They both just stared at Blaine's hand on Kurt's wing, observing them as if they weren't parts of their bodies.

Almost silently, Blaine whispered, "Thank you."

A small smile came across Kurt's face. "I feel like I should be thanking you," he said softly.

That comment made happiness swell up inside Blaine, exploding out into a laugh that he couldn't entirely explain.

But it seemed that he wouldn't need to explain, because soon after he started laughing, he heard Kurt chuckling along beside him. Each boy's laughter egged the other on, until the fell to the cold ground because trying to laugh with on ice skates was, actually, remarkably difficult.

After a few minutes, Blaine managed to stop laughing. He opted to simply turn on his side and watch his angel laugh. Kurt had such a beautiful laugh. Well, he had a beautiful _everything_, actually. Once again, his mouth decided to say something without his full consent. "I love you."

Kurt stopped laughing immediately and blinked, shaking his head. "But… you don't know me," he said.

"I don't think I need to," Blaine said. "I know everything I need to know."

"Blaine…" Kurt said, a tone of warning in his voice.

"Don't '_Blaine_' me, Kurt," he said. "I just told you I love you, and you're not allowed to take that away from me."

"I don't understand you," Kurt said.

"If it helps, I don't understand you, either," Blaine said, grinning at him.

Kurt furrowed his brows. "But you said you love me," he said.

He chuckled. "That's the beauty of it, Kurt," Blaine said. "You don't have to understand someone to love them. In fact, if you want enough romance movies—which I totally don't watch—half the time, they fall in love _because_ they don't understand each other."

"Is that why you love me?" he asked, rolling over to lie on his stomach, his wings lying lazily on the ice.

He raised his eyebrows at the other boy, shaking his head. "No," he said. "That's not it. I love you because…" He made a noncommittal noise.

"You're so eloquent," Kurt commented.

Blaine sighed. "Nevermind, I don't love you," he said with a pout. "You're _mean_."

Kurt blinked, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at Blaine. "I just really, really don't understand," he said quietly.

"You don't understand what?" he asked.

"How you can love me."

Blaine blinked. "Well, if you met yourself, then maybe you might understand," he said. "You're… you are really kind of amazing, and I don't think you understand that."

"But it… I…" A look of confusion crossed Kurt's face as he struggled to find the words to say what he needed to say. All the while, Blaine just grinned up at him.

"You really don't have to say anything," he said. "I just wanted you to know."

Kurt stared at him.

"And I'm sorry if that creeps you out, by the way."

Kurt frowned. He stared at Blaine in silence for a second before asking quietly, "Blaine… how do you… how do you know that you love me?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, looking up at him. He shrugged to the best of his ability from a laying down position. "I'm not really sure," he said. "I just do."

"But— ah—it—but how do you _know,_ Blaine?" Kurt asked, looking increasingly nervous.

"You just sort of do, I guess," he said with a shrug. Smirking, he added, "Or is this you trying to get me to wax poetic about you?" He laughed. "But just so you know, I totally would."

Kurt just stared at him, simultaneously trying to find a way to reply to that, and also trying to decide if Blaine's obliviousness was endearing or a sign of as-of-yet unseen idiocy.

The other boy seemed to take his silence as a sign that he did indeed want him to wax poetic about him. "I mean, when I first saw you I was, naturally, dazzled by your wings. They really are kind of _stupendous_, in case you weren't aware," he said, pausing for a moment to grin cheesily at Kurt. "But I'm sure you were aware. Anyways, then I saw your eyes, and I knew you were something special. And from there it went. You have… you have this little habits that I don't even think you are aware of, like, this is the cutest thing, sometimes when you—"

"You should stop," Kurt said, laying his face in the crook of his elbow so Blaine wouldn't see him blushing. He was flattered, of course, but it was in a way that he felt might be a bit creepy. "I've belonged to you for, what? A week?"

Blaine chuckled, and said, "One week together, that's all it took, one week for me to fall in love with you." At Kurt's blank stare, he added, "The Notebook? No?" He looked confused for a second, then said, "Oh, right. You kind of haven't been around."

Kurt blinked. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's a movie!" he said brightly. "It was a book first, I suppose, but everyone knows it as the movie. It's a love story."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I like love stories," he said.

Blaine just grinned, pushing himself up off the ice. "Well, I don't know about you, but sitting on the ground is making me cold," he said, standing up carefully so as to not fall down and embarrass himself in front of Kurt. "And what better way to warm up than to move around a bit?"

Kurt looked nervous, but if Blaine noticed he ignored it, reaching down to take a hold of Kurt's hands and pull him shakily to his feet.

"You good?" he asked once he had gotten the angel to his feet.

"Good as I'll ever be," Kurt replied.

Neither of them was sure how long they spent gliding across the ice and, of course, occasionally tripping and also falling. They spent long enough out on the ice that Kurt had worked up the bravery to ask Blaine to let go of his hands so he could try to skate without help. He fell, of course, too many times to count, but it was the thought that mattered. No one could just strap on some ice skates and go to the Olympics, after all, and he put up a valiant effort.

"You're getting good at this," Blaine said after one fall.

"You're getting good at mocking me," Kurt countered, struggling to get himself to his feet.

"Hey, no," he replied, moving to help Kurt up, "I'm serious. You are."

Kurt looked up at him, frowning. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better," he protested quietly.

"But I'm _not!_" Blaine said, sighing loudly. "You're picking it up way faster than anybody I've ever tried to teach, really."

Kurt looked at Blaine, an expression on his face that Blaine couldn't quite read, then quickly turned away, his cheeks turning bright red quicker that Blaine thought was possible. It was probably just the cold, Blaine decided to tell himself.

"I know that it's not my place to complain, so if you don't want to leave obviously it's your decision and please don't get mad at me for asking, but it's really cold outside and if you wouldn't mind I'd like to get back to your house," Kurt said. Yep, the cold. It was just the cold finally catching up with Kurt.

When Kurt reached the edge of the ice, he tried to take a step onto the snowy ground, wobbling dangerously, arms and wings flying out to keep his balance. "I can't walk!" he announced.

Blaine laughed, catching up with Kurt and quickly pulling his skates off. He leaned over to pick Kurt up in what could best be described as bridal style, though somewhat awkwardly because he didn't want to mess up Kurt's wings.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked, wriggling a bit in Blaine's arms.

"Carrying you," Blaine said. "And so I'd appreciate it if you'd stop moving, or I might end up dropping you."

Kurt did stop, but he frowned at Blaine. "Aren't your feet cold?"

Blaine did his best to shrug despite the fact that he was carrying the other boy. "I'll survive."

Kurt looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead just slowly, as if not wanting to be caught, laid his head on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine made his way to the car as slowly as possible despite the fact that his feet were freezing. Kurt, his angel, was in his arms, completely relaxed and showing absolute trust in Blaine. This would probably never happen again, and he needed to relish it. He tried not to notice the fact that Kurt smelled like his shampoo, since they hadn't made it out to a grocery store to pick up some for Kurt's own just yet. The fact that Kurt smelled like him, though, ignited a sense of territorialism that he never thought he'd have over a person.

Eventually, though, he got to the car and, although he seriously considered it, he could not get away with making laps around the car just to carry Kurt longer. He deposited Kurt in the passenger seat of his car and went to collect their shoes.

When he got back into the car, he looked over at Kurt to find the other boy curled up in his seat, fast asleep.

"Sleep well, Kurt," he whispered to the sleeping angel, smiling. "I love you."

* * *

><p>Blaine had legitimately forgotten that there was such a thing as Christmas, much less the fact that he was home from Dalton for Christmas (or his 'winter break' if you were interested in being politically correct, but everyone knows it's about Christmas). He was, of course, dully aware that yes, Christmas was coming, of course, but anything that was usually of importance was pushed to the back of his mind because, well, <em>Kurt<em>.

So he was remarkably surprised when his mother gently reminded him that he needed to pick out a tree because Christmas was that Saturday. It was Thursday. How did that even happen?

He entered his room to find Kurt once again curled up on his couch, a blanket on his lap and a faint smile on his face as he read a book.

Noticing Blaine, Kurt looked up. "Hm?"

"I need to go get a Christmas tree, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go with me," he said. Rubbing the back of his neck, he added, "Not that you have to if you don't want to. You look awfully comfortable and I'd hate to disturb you."

Kurt smiled. Recently, Kurt had been more and more willing to express his emotions, and Blaine was eating it up. Every time he made Kurt laugh or smile made him feel a bit like he'd won the lottery. "It's been so long since I've been able to celebrate Christmas," he said.

"They didn't have Christmas in… there?" Blaine asked. He, too, was being changed by the whole situation. The more he got to know Kurt, the less comfortable he was with the whole concept of pets. He wasn't about to start standing outside the facilities with picket signs, but he knew he'd never again spend money on buying a pet or support anyone who did.

Kurt shook his head. "They didn't have _happiness_ in there," he replied.

"Couldn't you have, like, had your own secret Christmas, though?" Blaine asked. He could not imagine having grown up without celebrating the holiday.

Kurt sighed. "I would have," he said, "but they knew we would, so they kept calendars away from us. Some of the elders tried to make makeshift calendars just so we could know, but since there weren't windows it was sort of hard to tell one day from the next."

Blaine felt like he was going to cry.

"But, even though I can't actually be at _home_, being with you is the next best thing," Kurt said. There was real, genuine happiness in his voice.

Blaine was _definitely_ going to cry.

He quickly turned to go to the bathroom. "Anyways, I'm just going to go to the bathroom real quick and then we can head out, okay?"

"Sure," Kurt said, pulling the blanket off of his lap.

Blaine closed the door behind him and finally let a few tears fall. Once again, he made himself a promise that he needed to keep: he would make this a perfect Christmas for Kurt. He needed to, to make up for the years he had missed.

Because seriously? _Being with you is the next best thing._ How could he not?

* * *

><p>"This tree kind of reminds me of one of the guards," Kurt said, "short and fat." Grabbing a protruding branch, he added, "Also, oddly-shaped."<p>

Blaine laughed. "I think it's got character," he said.

"Character, sure," Kurt said. "It's not _right,_ though. Your house is full of high ceilings, and there is nowhere in the house where it would look right."

Comments like these were made countless times that day, over the course of about half a dozen Christmas tree places. None of them were just right, and they need to find one that was absolutely perfect. This was Kurt's first real Christmas since he was little, not to mention the fact that this was their first Christmas together, and Blaine needs it to be special. It's going to set the stage for every holiday season they spent together from here on out (because Blaine had no intentions of saying goodbye to Kurt anytime soon, and even if he did, where would Kurt go?).

They had finally made it out to a real Christmas tree farm, because clearly a few rows of pine trees out in a grocery store parking lot were not going to cut it (not to mention the fact that Kurt was giving his opinions, without being prompted by his master, and that made everyone they encountered stop and stare for a moment in shock).

"What's up with this one?" Kurt asked.

"What about it?" Blaine asked.

"'What about it?' Are you serious, Blaine? It's… there is _nothing_ to like about this one," he said.

"It's tall, though," Blaine said, standing on the tips of his toes and reaching upwards, incapable of touching the top of the tree.

Kurt laughed, then turned away from the tree, scoffing as if it had personally offended him. Which, really, it may have. "The color is weird, and the needles are really stiff. I don't think it's getting enough water. It's got this one weird spot here, and the branches are thin there, see, and oh for the love of all that is good, Blaine, why are you putting up with me right now?"

Blaine blinked. Kurt's rant had pulled a complete one-eighty and he was still trying to catch up. "Wait, what?"

"I'm being obnoxious," Kurt said, not seeming to notice when his voice cracked as he spoke. "You would probably be back at home by now if it wasn't for me being so fucking picky about this, and you haven't even said a thing about it and I don't—"

"Kurt," Blaine said, trying to stop Kurt's outburst in its tracks. "Kurt, _Kurt_." He reached over and gently squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "You are not being obnoxious, and you are not being too picky."

"But I am, though, and you—"

"Stop," Blaine said. "This is important to me, too, Kurt."

"I just…" Kurt's statement trailed off, and he looked away from Blaine, tears forming in his eyes.

"Hey," Blaine said, deciding to risk pushing Kurt's limits again in favor of comforting angel, slowly stroking his thumb across his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"It's just that doing this," he said, gesturing around them at the pine trees, "is bringing back memories for me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. "Not that you have to. Seriously, don't think that just because I asked, you have—"

"There's nobody else who I can talk to," Kurt said, "and I want you to know." He stepped forward and leaned his forehead on Blaine's shoulder. "Please don't judge me if I cry."

Automatically, Blaine's hands went to Kurt's waist. It was probably to intimate of a gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do, and Kurt didn't pull away or tense, so Blaine left them there. "Never," he replied.

Kurt stepped in closer to Blaine's arms. "When I was little, me, my dad, and my mom would go out together to find the perfect Christmas tree. It needed to be perfect.

"When I say perfect, what I think you hear is 'really good'. No, I legitimately mean that it had to be perfect," he said. "Or, at least that's how I remember it. I remember thinking that my mom had the best eye for picking out Christmas trees… or, well, everything, really." His entire body was trembling, and Blaine wished that he could will himself to believe that it was from the cold.

"You really miss them, huh?" he asked.

"That's not… I do, obviously I do," he said. "But I have for years. That's nothing new. It's just, doing this with you has brought back memories and it made me think about things I've made myself not think about and and and—"

Blaine still didn't know what was going on, but Kurt was crying into his shoulder and it was all he could do to not cry, too, because seriously, when Kurt cried, even if it wasn't your fault, you still felt like a horrible person. "Kurt," he breathed, because he really wasn't sure what else he could say at that moment.

As soon as he said that, Kurt stood up completely straight and stepped backwards out of Blaine's arms, visibly steeling himself for what he was about to say. There were tears in his eyes, but he ignored them as he spoke, "You are not going to say anything or judge anyone because of this story because nothing, I repeat, _nothing_, that is anyone's fault. Do you understand?"

With a growing sense of apprehension, Blaine nodded.

Kurt let out a long breath. "When I was eight, my mother died," he said, and really, what better way to start a story is there? "She was sick for a long time, and both my dad and I knew it. But I guess we just sort of didn't want to acknowledge it, right? Besides, I was eight. I didn't really comprehend what death even really was.

"All I really knew, I guess, was that my mom, the greatest, most strong person I had ever seen, was getting weaker and weaker by the days. The woman who had once held me tight and calmed my fears and assured me that she'd never let anyone know that I had wings. It was—" His voice cracked then, and for a second he just stood there, breath leaving his mouth loudly in visible puffs.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, reaching out to touch him. He had no idea what to do to comfort Kurt, really. He'd never been much good at comforting people. But Kurt looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown and it tore Blaine's heart to pieces.

The other boy took a step back though, and said, "If you touch me right now I don't think I… just don't." There was a plea in his eyes, so so blue and so _sad_. He gave his entire body a good shake, once again building up a shell between himself and the words that came out of his mouth. "When my mom died, that's when I think things started to fall apart. My dad tried to hide it, he did, but he was heartbroken. That's not something anyone is ready for, even if you know it's coming. There's no good way to deal with the love of your life dying, right?"

His voice dropped to a shaky whisper then as he said, "I just wanted my mommy to come home."

Despite Kurt's order to not touch him, Blaine could not hold back at that point, rushing forward and pulling him into his arms. Almost as soon as Kurt was in his arms, Kurt's face was burrowed in the curve between his shoulder and his neck. He could feel shaky breaths and what could only be tears against his skin.

"I think you can put together the pieces from there," Kurt choked out. "Since I was nine when they—" Once again his voice cracked, and Blaine simply rubbed a hand over the small of his back.

After a moment, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place into Blaine's mind. In the year after Kurt's mother's death, he and his father must have slipped up somewhere, somehow, and he was found out. In that moment, even if just for a second, he hated literally everything except for the boy crying in his arms. "Oh, Kurt."

"I just know he blames himself for it, you know? But how could we have known? You never think to be worried about people seeing you in your yard and I never let myself think about it but I really just wish I could know that he's doing alright because he lost both of us so fast and you can't just be okay after that, you know? It probably destroyed him and I seriously have no way to know and it's been years so he's got to be doing better now, right? He's got to be, Blaine, he's just…" Kurt's voice, thick with tears, had tapered off until he, most likely, physically could not speak anymore.

Blaine lowered their bodies to the snowy ground, pulling Kurt in tighter to him and whispering soft assurances in Kurt's ear.

"Are you crying?" Kurt asked, looking up at Blaine without lifting his head from his shoulder.

"No," Blaine replied, though they both knew he was.

"Why?"

"Because when you love someone, their pain starts to become your pain, too."

"Blaine, I—" Kurt began, a loud sob cutting him off. "Thank you." He pulled his wings around Blaine, enveloping him and reminding him somewhat of a security blanket.

For a moment, there wasn't a world outside of those chocolate-colored wings; there were only two boys and nothing else.

* * *

><p>Eventually, they ended up finding the perfect tree. Once they got back home, they spent nearly forty-five minutes trying to decide where they would put up the tree, testing it out room by room, which was a tall order considering the number of rooms there were in the house.<p>

Once Blaine was satisfied with the tree's location in the foyer, he disappeared into a walk-in closet and came back a few minutes later with a cardboard box containing strings of lights in neat balls and various ornaments.

"And here's the fun part," he said, setting the box on the floor and pulling out a string of lights. Sitting down on the floor and crossing his legs, he added, "We need to unroll each string of lights and check every light."

"Every light?" Kurt asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

"Every light!" Blaine replied cheerfully, plugging in the lights and grinning at the glowing tangle of twinkling lights in his hand. Starting to unroll it, he added, "It really isn't as bad as it sounds. And usually if there's a problem with one of the lights, you can tell right off the bat, because then half the string is off."

Kurt sighed, grabbing another ball from the box and plugging it into the wall. He started to unroll it, looking at the lights and mirroring Blaine's movements.

Blaine looked up at him with a smile on his face, though it quickly turned into a gape when he saw the way Kurt's eyes caught the Christmas lights. Seriously, though, was it possible for Kurt's eyes to be anything short of dazzling? It was beginning to be a bit of an inconvenience.

"Anyways," he said, standing up quickly and hoping that Kurt hadn't noticed that he had been staring, "All the lights on this string work, so you check that string and I guess I'll just…" He pulled the plug out of the wall and got on the tips of his toes, reaching out to start hanging the lights on the tree.

"Uh, Blaine?" Kurt said.

"Yes?" Blaine looked over his shoulder at him.

"Do you realize what's wrong with what you're doing right now?" he asked.

Blaine frowned. "What?"

"Look where the… _a__hh,_" he lifted his hand and made a gesture with his index and middle finger, trying to indicate the end of the plug. "Look where _that_ thing is."

Blaine furrowed his brows, looking at the plug in his hand. "It's a plug," he said.

Kurt sighed. "Yes, and to make those lights light up, where will that plug need to go?"

Blaine opened his mouth and then shut it, rubbing his hand over his face. "Did I seriously just do that?"

"You did," Kurt affirmed. He gave Blaine a little smile as he stood up and grabbed the wire from Blaine's hand. "This is coming from a place of caring, really it is, so I just need to ask: are you always this… ah, um…"

"You really don't have to try not to offend me," he said, watching as Kurt plugged the lights back in and started in on draping them over the tree's branches.

"You're kind of an idiot," Kurt said. "And I'm just wondering if you're always like this?"

Blaine sighed. "Not usually," he pouted. "Seriously, Kurt, I'm actually a reasonably smart person."

Kurt looked up at him, laughing. "I'm sure," he said. He made his way in circles around the tree, shimmying by Blaine as he went.

Blaine leaned up against the wall, pouting. "Do I detect sarcasm?"

"You do," Kurt replied, reaching for the other string of lights. "I like you, though."

Blaine grinned. "You like me?"

"I do," Kurt said.

"Good!" Blaine said, resisting the urge to clap. "I like you too."

Kurt shot him a look, tucking the end of the lights into the tree. "We are not using like as anything more than it is," he said quickly.

"Of course not," Blaine said. "But usually to love someone, outside of your family at least, you have to like them, first."

Kurt froze in place for a moment, looking something like a deer caught in the headlights, then turned around and went to grab two bags of bauble ornaments, red and green, respectively, from the box, nodding approvingly. "Very classy," he commented, handing the green bag to Blaine.

He nodded. "My mom picked it out," he explained pulling a bauble out of the bag. "We used to have two trees. One for the front of the house, where people would see it, with these ornaments on it, very Martha Stewart-esque and—"

"Martha Stewart?" Kurt asked, placing an ornament on the tree. He frowned at his now slightly sticky fingers, reminding himself why he preferred to touch the tree as minimally as possible.

"Oh, right. Time gap," Blaine said, tapping his head with his index finger and nodding. It was the nicest way to put the fact that Kurt had missed out on about (by Blaine's estimation) eight or nine years of his life because he was in a facility. "Anyways, Martha Stewart is this interior designer or something. She got arrested way back, which is funny, since she's just, well, an interior designer."

"Did she decorate the heck out of the jail cell?" Kurt asked.

"No idea," Blaine said, laughing. "Wouldn't that just be perfect, though?"

"Anyways, you were saying something?" Kurt asked.

Blaine furrowed his brow as he placed another ornament, mentally retracing his steps. "Oh, right," he said. "Anyways, we'd have the nice fancy tree where everyone could see it and wish they were us, and then back in the den we would get a second tree with all those cute, silly ornaments. Like the ones they sell at Hallmark and little kids make in their arts and crafts classes in elementary school. Cheesy and homey." He looks confused for a second, then added, "Somewhere along the line I guess we gave up on that tree. I grew out of it, I guess. My dad's always been an all-business sort of guy, and my mom likes to keep things neat, so I suppose it makes sense, right? When I have kids, though, we're _never_ going to grow out of that. I'm going to have them hang those dorky little glitter-covered handmade ornaments until they move out and then _I'll_ hang them myself with _pride_.

"And eventually they'll bring their kids to my house for Christmas and I'll hang up _their_ ornaments, too, and they'll laugh at the ornaments their parents made and say theirs are better and I'll agree because those kids will be so cute." He got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment, and hummed a bar of Jingle Bells to himself.

For a second Kurt froze again, and he was overwhelmed with an overwhelming feeling of desire. Desire for what, he wasn't entirely sure. To be a part of the picture Blaine just painted? That was true; he wanted to be part of a family. He closed his eyes and blindly placed an ornament, imagining an older Blaine with a little boy with curly (because though Blaine tried to pretend his hair wasn't a curly mess, Kurt wasn't an idiot) dark hair sitting on his knee, Kurt sitting right beside him. No. He couldn't think that way. Pets were disposable. By the time Blaine got older and got married, Kurt would be long gone, 'love' be damned. Shaking his head to get the idea out of his head, he turned to Blaine and said, "Thought about that a lot?"

Blaine nodded emphatically. "All the time," he said brightly. "I really just want to have a family of my own, you know?"

Kurt shifted from one foot to the other, not entirely sure what to say. He had no idea, after all, how much longer he was going to be in Blaine's life. Even if Blaine did truly love him, it still wasn't at all socially acceptable to marry a pet, though it was perfectly legal. Not that Kurt even wanted that.

He decided to just focus on decorating the tree. It was simple, it was mindless, and it brought him back to a time when nothing really seemed to be of much consequence (though of course even the quickest trip outside was consequential as he knew now). Soon enough he was finished, and looking over at Blaine, he found that he may have been rushing, since Blaine still had at least half of his ornaments left.

Blaine was still humming to himself, occasionally stepping back and looking at the tree as a whole to see if there were any areas that needed more or less ornaments.

There was that feeling again, something tugging at his very being and telling him to _do_, but he still wasn't even sure what it was that he wanted. All he knew is that when Blaine looked over at him and smiled, his heart leapt into his throat and he had to suppress a shiver.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he said quickly, turning to leave the room before Blaine could say anything.

Blaine wasn't really sure what was going on. He was aware that something was off, but then again just a couple weeks ago this would still be more than he could have asked for. Maybe Kurt was sick. He didn't seem sick outwardly, but then again he was also an angel and he couldn't imagine an angel looking anything but perfect.

More likely, though, Kurt was feeling homesick. Blaine had tried to do what he could to make the conversation light and keep Kurt's mind off of things for the afternoon, but when the thing that had triggered the memory was a Christmas tree lot, a usually fun activity such as decorating for Christmas wouldn't be nearly as much fun. But he knew that Kurt, regardless of how comfortable they had gotten with each other, would never say anything if he was upset, but would get upset if Blaine tried to change what he was doing to appease Kurt.

Frowning, he tried to think of something, _anything_, that Kurt had said or done that indicated anything that he enjoyed doing. The trouble was that Kurt didn't make a habit of talking about himself. One of the few things that he knew about Kurt was that he liked to read books, as evidenced by the fact that when he had free time he would usually pluck a book off of a shelf. But he didn't know if Kurt would enjoy reading with company, and Blaine didn't want to leave him alone right now. In his experience, when you were alone, that was when your thoughts started to eat at you. So what else was there?

He had a blurry memory of the first day he had spent with Kurt, in which he woke up to the sound of the angel singing. Would he have been singing if he didn't _like_ singing? Most likely not, he decided. It was worth a shot, anyways.

With a grin on his face, Blaine turned around to find something in the closet where they stored the Christmas decorations, quickly finding a small, old boom box. He ran his finger along a row of CDs, ignoring the dust accumulating on the tip of his finger.

"Blaine?" he heard Kurt's voice coming from the foyer.

"In the closet," he called back.

"Never would have guessed," Kurt said, appearing in the doorframe with a smirk on his face. Looking around the tiny room, he pulled his wings in and crossed the threshold.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Well, look who's being smart with me," he said, making sure to keep his tone teasing instead of reprimanding. Anything to keep Kurt at ease.

Ignoring Blaine's comment, Kurt peered at the shelf Blaine was looking at. "What are you looking for?" he asked.

"I was thinking we could sing together," he said, sending a hopeful smile to Kurt. "If that's okay with you, I mean. I was thinking maybe we could do a little Let it Snow, or—"

"Blaine, put that down," Kurt said, gesturing to the boom box.

Panic rose up in Blaine as he set the boom box down. It was a stupid idea and Kurt was probably even more upset now. "I'm sorry, I—"

Before he could finish his statement, Kurt's body was crashing into his, soft hands on his face and even softer lips against his own. He moaned into the kiss, though if anyone asked he would simply write it off as a noise of surprise, because who really expects to be kissed by a literal angel?

About the time when Blaine was gathering up the courage to touch Kurt, the other boy was pulling away and it ended just about as abruptly as it began.

Cheeks red, Kurt turned back to the shelf and said, "Well about that Christmas music, then."


	3. Part Three

**An update on Sunday night, as promised! I am really, really appreciating the comments I've been getting, they make me glad I did actually post this.**

* * *

><p>They didn't talk about the kiss. After it happened, honestly, it was as if it had never happened. Blaine wasn't upset about it, though. He understood that Kurt had probably just been confused and acted on an impulse and immediately regretted it. And that was fine. He was just glad that it had happened and it was of Kurt's own will.<p>

Christmas morning with his parents was stony at best, and he had opted to not wake up Kurt. Not only would his parents probably find it odd (pets were rarely present at family functions such as meals or, of course, Christmas festivities, if the word 'festivities' could be applied here), but also he liked to keep his parents and Kurt apart as much as possible.

Returning to his room with boxes full of mostly clothes and the latest things teenage boys _had_ to have, he found Kurt stretched out across the couch on his stomach, wings drooping lazily as he idly traced patterns on the carpet with his index finger. When he heard Blaine come in, his wings perked and he looked up at the doorway. "Hey."

"Merry Christmas, Kurt," he said, a smile growing on his face as he flicked on the light switch.

"Merry Christmas," Kurt replied with a yawn, making no move to sit up.

"Hold on," he said, opening his closet doors, "I've got something for you."

Kurt furrowed his brow. Sitting his, he asked, "You got something for me? You didn't have to do—"

"But I wanted to," Blaine replied, groaning as he lifted a brightly-wrapped package from the shelf. Walking over to Kurt, he set it on the couch next to him.

Kurt turned to grab it, widening his eyes as he felt how heavy it was. "What did you put in here?" he asked. "Bricks?"

"A bunch of rocks, but close enough," Blaine replied, grinning.

"This is too much," Kurt protested.

"Nothing is too much for you," he replied, smiling at him.

Blushing, Kurt moved his hand to where a ribbon was tied around the box, making no comment but a simple raised eyebrow as if to say how gay it was, even for a gay guy, and pulled the ribbon slowly loose.

At the top of the box there was a blue green scarf.

"I saw it and thought it matched your eyes," Blaine explained, wringing his hands nervously. "But if you don't like it, I could return it or—"

Kurt cut him off my leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Smiling meekly at Blaine, he said, "I love it. Thank you."

Blaine grinned widely. Feeling a new confidence because of Kurt's reaction, he said, "There is more." Which, obviously, there was. No one fills a box with inexplicable heaviness just to put a scarf in it. That was a ridiculous thing to do

Kurt looked down into the box. It was full of books.

He lifted a few books from the box as Blaine explained, "I noticed that you read a lot, but I wasn't sure what you'd like so there are a bunch of classics and some the bookseller recommended. You mentioned Fahrenheit 451, so I thought you might want a copy of that. Unless you hated it, in which case we have it anyways."

"You're way too nice to me," Kurt said, clutching a book to his chest.

"I'm making up for all that time of no one being nice to you," he replied with a shrug. He took in a deep breath, and before he could think twice about it, he forced himself to say, "And I ask one thing of you in return."

Kurt looked up at him, nervousness clear in his eyes. "Hm?"

"Kurt, I… could you please explain to me what we are?" Blaine asked.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, shifting awkwardly as his hands took a sudden interest in feeling the scarf on his lap.

"You know I'm in love with you. And… the other day you kissed me and I figured you regretted it but just now you kissed me again and I don't know if that was just, like, a friendly kiss or maybe you felt obligated to kiss me because I'm your owner or something, but I just sort of really need to know where we stand, because I am _confused_," he said. The longer his speech had gone on, the quicker and more panicked his words became because this was a bad idea and Kurt was never going to speak to him again because he is always doing things like this to make him feel uncomfortable and why was Blaine so _stupid_?

"I…" Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "I'm not going to say I love you, because, well, honestly, I don't. I have no idea what love really is. But I like you. I really do. And I kissed you because I know this is going to be my only opportunity."

"What?" Blaine asked, frowning. He was sure Kurt could hear his heart beating. "Why?"

"You know why, Blaine," Kurt said quietly, his voice sounding resigned.

"I'm not sure I do," he replied.

"Alright, let me count the reasons," he said, his voice gaining an edge to it. "First of all, because you're perfect. You're rich, you're handsome, and you are easily one of the nicest people the world has ever seen. Someday some lucky guy is going to come and sweep you off your feet and you'll run off into the sunset together and have a beautiful family together."

_You_, Blaine wanted to scream, but he couldn't find his voice. _I want you to be the one I ride off into the sunset with_. _Only you!_

"But that's not the biggest thing, of course. I know for a fact what the biggest thing is. It's the _fucking_ reason we ever met," Kurt said, his eyes filling with tears that Blaine wasn't sure whether they were from anger or sadness. He also wasn't sure he wanted to know. "I have _wings_, Blaine. You know what that makes me? A freak. A _pet_. A thing to be had." Blaine opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Kurt carried on, "And I know you don't see it that way, but everyone else does. I'll always be yours, but you'll never be mine. People would never accept us and you and I both know it."

"I don't care what anyone says or thinks, Kurt," Blaine replied quietly.

"But you should! You are an amazing person and you shouldn't have to settle for becoming an outcast because you think you love your _pet_ and you want—"

"Kurt, Kurt, stop right there," he said, shaking his head. "Let me make this clear right now. I do not, nor will I ever, regardless of what you say, care about what anyone has to say about you, or us. If I cared about what people said about me, I would be a scared little boy hiding in the closet right now, with some bleach blond pet." This wasn't entirely true. He still at times felt hurt when he remembered some of the things people had called him at his school before he went to Dalton. But, once again, when trying to make a point, you always leave things out that make your argument seem invalid. "But I'm _not_. I don't give two shakes what anyone says.

"But this really, really isn't about what anyone else thinks. This has nothing to do with anyone but you and me," he said, reaching around the now-forgotten box of books between them and grabbing Kurt's hand. "And I love you, and you like me, and I don't see any reason why we can't make ourselves happy and just be…" He hesitated, not sure what to call them. 'Boyfriends' was definitely too much. "Us. Just be us."

Kurt didn't say anything. After a long moment of silence, he finally asked, "Does being us involve kissing and riding off into the sunset?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "If you want it to," he answered. He held his breath, waiting for Kurt's answer.

"I want it to," he said softly, and that was all Blaine needed to hear to banish the box to the floor and wrap his arms around Kurt, kissing the corner of his mouth as he went.

"I love you," he whispered into Kurt's ear, not missing the slight shiver Kurt gave at the sensation.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine," Kurt replied happily.

"I have something," Blaine announced as he walked into the living room a few days later.

"Care to be more vague?" Kurt asked.

Blaine rolled his eyes and held out a DVD box to Kurt.

"The Notebook?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he said. "I was going to get you a copy of the novel for Christmas, but apparently they didn't have it. Kind of ridiculous, actually. I'm pretty sure it was a bestseller."

Kurt eyed the DVD box for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

"You want to watch it?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"Sure," he replied with a shrug.

Putting the DVD into the player, Blaine said, "Just to clarify, I know that when we went ice skating I said one week, but the line is actually two weeks." Much like arguments, you can leave out or alter things about references to suit your needs.

"Thanks for the trivia?" Kurt said, looking at Blaine curiously.

"I say this because," Blaine said, giving Kurt a hard look, "I know you like to try to prove me wrong." He took a seat on the couch, grabbing the remote.

"Right you are," he said. Frowning at the space between them, he added, "Get over here, Blaine."

There was no holding back the grin that spread across Blaine's face as he scooted down the couch towards Kurt. As Blaine fast forwarded through the ads before the DVD's menu, Kurt leaned over and laid his head on his shoulder.

Two hours later found Kurt curled up in Blaine's arms, shoving his tear-stained face into the curve where Blaine's neck met his shoulder as the credits rolled. "Why did we watch that?" he whined.

"Did you not like it?" Blaine asked, suddenly feeling very nervous that he might have made a poor decision.

"I _loved_ it," he replied, "but it tore my heart out."

"Aw, _Kurt_," Blaine said, trying and failing to keep the smile out of his voice. It wasn't his fault that Kurt was so adorable.

"Is that normal?" Kurt asked, sitting up and looking at Blaine. "Are _all_ movies like this nowadays?"

"No, not all movies are like this," Blaine answered, lifting his hand to Kurt's face and rubbing away a tear. "The Notebook is pretty known for making people cry."

"So what you're saying is that you like to see me suffer?" Kurt asked, pouting.

"Well, no," Blaine said, a grin creeping across his face. "Really, this was rather clever of me."

"Oh?" he asked. He knew from the look on Blaine's face that he was up to something.

"Now," Blaine said, leaning forward until their faces were barely an inch apart, "I can kiss you and make it better. How does that sound?"

Kurt chuckled, closing the space between their lips before Blaine had a chance to.

It was rare for Kurt to take control in one of their kisses, and though Blaine always enjoyed kissing Kurt (after all, how often did you have the chance to kiss a real angel?), he decided that it was a definite treat to have Kurt's tongue pressing at his lips to gain access instead of the other way around, to have Kurt's hands grabbing at his face when he hesitated.

After goodness knows how long (because when you kiss Kurt, you don't, believe it or not, even think to sneak a peek at the clock), Kurt pulled away, taking in a long breath with a smile on his face.

"Now Kurt," Blaine said, leaning back against the couch cushions and grinning up at the boy in his lap, "I believe I said the purpose of that venture was to allow me to kiss _you_ and make you feel better."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I feel better," Kurt said, smiling. Leaning forward and kissing Blaine's cheek.

"I'm glad to hear that, Kurt," Blaine said, smiling as Kurt leaned his forehead against Blaine's, "but, see, as you may have noticed, when I start something… I like to see it through."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Blaine's lips crashed against his and Blaine's hands seized his shoulders, moving them to lay along the couch with Blaine on top of Kurt. His wings were pinned underneath him somewhat uncomfortably, but at that moment he didn't much care because Blaine was _on top of him_. He was suddenly hyperaware of Blaine's entire body, from his feet, which were tangled up in Kurt's, to his tongue, which was, actually, in a similar situation to his feet (which, as a point of clarification, was tangled up in Kurt's _tongue_ and decidedly not his feet). It was the sort of kiss that Kurt had only read about—that made your skin feel warm and made your toes curl in the best way possible. Clearly he wasn't the only one who felt that way, as evidenced by the fact that Blaine had just moaned loudly into Kurt's mouth. It just felt absolutely _right._

Until, of course, something came along to ruin the moment. Because, after all, there always had to be something to ruin the moment.

Neither Blaine nor Kurt had noticed the sound of the door opening, and only noticed the newcomer into the room when he cleared his throat.

Blaine sat up quickly, and even though Kurt was terrified because of the fact that Mr. Anderson had just walked in on him making out with his son (even if that was the intent with which he bought Kurt for Blaine, it was still jarring to be walked in on), he still felt a thrill seeing Blaine's lips red and swollen from kissing him.

After a moment, Blaine's father nodded slowly. "Just needed to grab this," he said, picking up a notebook from the coffee table and making his way back to the door. As he was about to leave the room, he turned around. "Use protection," he said to Blaine. Leering at Kurt, he added, "You wouldn't want to catch anything from that."

For a second, Blaine froze, angry but unsure what to do about it. He wasn't, after all, one to lose his temper. From time to time, though, you really needed to. "_His_ name is Kurt, and there is nothing at all wrong with him and I _love_ him!"

Blaine's father started, and then let out a long sigh. "Trust me, you're just telling yourself that," he said stiffly. "It's not possible to fall in love with a _pet_."

"It _is_, though, because you know what, Dad? He's more than just some pet," Blaine snapped.

Blaine's hand was clenched in a fist and Kurt discretely reached up to gently stroke his wrist, feeling Blaine shaking slightly. "Blaine," he whispered.

Blaine's father shook his head slowly. "These _delusions_ are exactly why you'll always be a disappointment," he said before disappearing out of the room.

Blaine sighed, letting himself droop down against Kurt's body once more, nuzzling his face against Kurt as he took a deep breath in. "He—he's wrong, Kurt. He's got to be, right? He's wrong," he mumbled into Kurt's chest. "You're not just some pet. You're an _angel_. You're _my_ angel. I know because you're amazing and beautiful and perfect and Kurt, do you know what angels do? Well, some people say they save people. I believe it. You saved me."

"Blaine…"

There was a sniffle, and Kurt's heart clenched as he realized that Blaine was crying. "So he's got to be right, right? I grew up thinking that he was always right and I never wanted to disappoint him or—I just… I tried, right? So _fucking_ hard and he just…" Blaine's voice trailed off.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered to him, pressing his nose into Blaine's hair. "Don't… don't listen to him." He wrapped his arms around Blaine's chest, wishing he knew more about comforting someone. No doubt, Blaine would know how to comfort him if the tables were turned—they had been before, after all.

"Why shouldn't I, though?" he whined miserably. He was being childish, and deep-down he knew it, but being around Kurt and just being so damn _in love_ had made him temporarily forget that he had problems (because, as you'll recall, being rich does not solve all of your problems).

Kurt frowned. Gently, he lifted a hand from Blaine's side and grabbed his head, tilting it so he looked him in the eye. "Because, Blaine…" he blinked, his lips forming the beginnings of a smile as he spoke, "maybe my standards are low, but I know you'll never disappoint _me_. And you know why?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Why is that, Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt took a breath in, the way one does when steeling themselves before saying something risky or important, and said, "Because I think… I love you."

Blaine's eyes went as wide as saucers and his jaw literally dropped at that, and for a second Kurt was terrified that maybe Blaine had realized that he didn't really love Kurt or maybe he—

"_Mmph!_" Kurt's panicked train of thought was cut off by Blaine's lips on his once again. But just as soon as Kurt was about to reach his hand up into Blaine's hair, the other boy pulled back abruptly.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he said quickly, "You didn't just say that because you're my pet and you feel obligated, do you? I get why you would do that, since my dad just… But I really, really hope you didn't, because I swear to _God_, Kurt, if you did, it will literally break my heart and do you even know—"

"Blaine, baby, stop," Kurt cut him off, though truth be told he thought that it was absolutely adorable. But he didn't want to make the boy he _loved_ suffer. "I wouldn't do that."

He felt Blaine relax on top of him, though he still fretted his bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I…" Kurt took a deep breath in. This was it; this was his only opportunity to back out and take it back, to try to change things back to the way they were before. He knew that that realization should have sent a sense of panic or urgency or _something_ through his body, but instead all he felt was a sort of electrifying warmth coursing through his veins and settling deep in his stomach. If that wasn't love, he had no idea what was. "Yeah. I am absolutely in love with you, Blaine Anderson."

If anyone were to ask what noise Blaine made, the best word Kurt would be able to find to describe it would be that Blaine 'squealed'. He was grinning widely, his hazel eyes glittering in a way that made Kurt wish he'd realized he loved him earlier because there was just so much happiness in them at that moment he could hardly stand it.

The next few hours were spent in near silence as the pair kissed and cuddled and simply basked in the fact that they were young and in love as the DVD menu for _The Notebook_ played on repeat.

Kurt had read a lot of books while he was in the facility; it was a good way to maintain thought and to pass the time. He hadn't allowed himself to read many romance novels, though, because he knew that in doing so he'd just set himself up for disappointment. So he didn't know much about love stories beyond the fairytales he'd had his mother and father read to him when he was younger. So maybe it was naïve of him, but still, he decided that what he had with Blaine, was the greatest love story of them all.

Blaine held up a sweater, looking at it with furrowed eyebrows.

"Should I bring it?" he asked, looking up at the bed, where Kurt appeared to be having some difficulties with a blanket. He had pulled it around his shoulders to keep him warm, but in doing so he had pulled down his wings uncomfortably and now seemed to be trying to find a better way.

"Hm?" Kurt looked up to see Blaine giving him a questioning look.

"This sweater," Blaine said, slightly shaking the sweater in his hands, "should I bring it back to Dalton with me?"

Kurt eyed the sweater with a frown. "Do you want my _honest_ opinion?" he asked.

Blaine sighed. "Do you think that I am going to wear it enough to make bringing it worthwhile?"

"I think the better question is _should_ you wear it."

"That bad, huh?" Blaine asked, lowering the sweater to his lap.

"Even worse," Kurt remarked. "It looks like something a grandfather would wear. A blind grandfather."

"Okay then," Blaine chuckled as he tossed the offensive piece of clothing onto a pile beside him and lifted another sweater from the drawer.

Before he could even ask, Kurt was nodding vigorously. "You are bringing that," he said.

Blaine glanced up at him with a smirk. "Is there something you_ like_ about this sweater, Kurt?"

Kurt's cheeks reddened immediately. "Well, it, ah… I just, _arms_."

"Eloquent as ever, Kurt," he commented, pulling himself to his feet and leaning forward to press a kiss to Kurt's cheek. Sitting back down on the floor, he asked as nonchalantly as he could, "So, you like my arms, do you?"

Kurt blushed, looking down at his hands awkwardly. "Well, I, um…" he mumbles, carefully inspecting the lines on the backs of his fingers, even his wings shuffling awkwardly behind him.

"It's fine if you like looking at me, Kurt," Blaine assured him. Leaning his arms on the edge of the bed in a way that _had_ to be intentional, he added in a low voice, "I don't mind at all."

Kurt nodded slowly but didn't say anything else. He moved so he was lying across the bed on his stomach, giving Blaine a quick peck on the lips. Ever since he had told Blaine he loved him, he had been more and more willing to randomly show affection, and Blaine appreciated it.

Smiling, Blaine turned back to his pile of clothes. He hummed to himself as he looked over his clothes. To fill the silence, he started talking absentmindedly as he sorted. "I mean, I'll need to bring some winter clothes, but not too much since I also need to have room for my spring clothes because I don't want to have to come back here to pick anything up if I don't have to." He paused, folding a cardigan and setting in on the floor next to him. When Kurt didn't say anything, he continued talking, "I'm not even sure why I'm thinking so much about this. I have to wear a uniform at Dalton, after all, so it's not like I'll be wearing these clothes much.

"Though, actually, I'm probably putting this much thought into this is because _you_ always judge me if I'm wearing something you don't approve of," he said. Chuckling, he expected some snarky comment about how he wouldn't have to judge Blaine if he only just wore decent clothes, but nothing came. Flicking his eyes up to the bed, he saw that Kurt was frowning. "Kurt? Is everything alright?"

"Oh, it's just… am I going to Dalton with you, or…" he trailed off, looking anywhere but at Blaine's face.

"Is that even a question?" Blaine asked, frowning. "I mean, seriously?"

Kurt frowned, sitting up on the bed. Pulling his wings protectively around his body, he said quickly, "I'm sorry I asked. I know it was a silly thing to think. I know that most pets' masters just leave their pets at home when they go—"

"Are we really back at this point again, Kurt?" he asked, cutting him off before the rant got any further.

Kurt blinked. "But I—"

"Kurt, you are coming with me, no ifs, and, or buts about it," he said.

"Are you sure? I mean, it'll probably be inconvenient having me around, and won't your friends think—"

"Stop, Kurt, stop right there," Blaine said, shaking his head. "We are not going back to this. I love you, and if you think that I'm just going to leave you here by yourself, you are insane."

"Your friends—" Kurt protested weakly.

"Will not care. The Warblers are the greatest guys you'll ever meet, and they won't judge me for who I love," he said. Smiling, he added, "In fact, I bet they'll be happy to see that I'm in love." He lifted Kurt's chin from where it was laying on his arm and kissed him gently.

"Will they like me?" Kurt asked. It was one thing to be happy that your friend was in love, but it was another thing entirely to _like_ the person your friend loved.

"They will _love_ you," he replied.

"Even though I'm a pet?" he asked.

"_Especially_ because you're an angel," Blaine replied, moving so they both sat on the bed. He leaned forward and kissed each corner of Kurt's mouth before giving Kurt a feather-light kiss on the lips. Leaning his forehead against Kurt's, he whispered, "But even if they don't love you, which they will, it doesn't matter. Because _I_ love you, and that's all that matters."

Kurt smiled brightly. "I love you, too," he whispered in reply.

Blaine decided that he could get back to sorting through his clothes later. He wasn't leaving until the next afternoon, anyways, and Kurt was just so beautiful and adorable. Just like at the Christmas tree farm, Kurt pulled him close and pulled his wings around the both of them as they laid together, basking in love the way two young people in love would do.

Kurt sat on the front porch, watching Blaine grow more and more frustrated as he tried to arrange his bags in the back of his car. The longer he watched, the more clear it became to him that Blaine was _terrible_ with spatial relationships. He was also glad that he had his thick, brown wings to keep him warm in the lightly falling snow. Blaine had said that it would just be a few minutes, but it was going on half an hour and Blaine was still having difficulties.

Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to the car and leaned up against it.

"Troubles?" he asked.

"I'm just really bad at suitcase Tetris," Blaine said with a frown.

"Suitcase Tetris? Really, Blaine?" he said, though he was holding back a laugh. Moving to look at the trunk and the bags that need to go into it, he gestured for Blaine to step back. "I'll show you how it's done."

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Kurt had all of Blaine's things arranged in the back of the car. Closing the trunk, he said brightly, "See? Nice and easy." This comment was met with a snowball hitting him in the wing. He shook his wings to get the snow off, then turned around to look at Blaine, one eyebrow raised.

"No one likes a show-off, Kurt," Blaine said, pouting.

"I was not showing off, I was just trying to help," Kurt argued.

"By showing off," Blaine said, walking up to his side of the car.

"We are not having this conversation," he said, shaking his head slowly as he opened the door to the passenger seat.

"Right," Blaine said. He got into the car and put the key in the ignition. "You get to pick what we listen to unless you make a poor decision."

Kurt sighed, settling into his seat. "You have such faith in me."

"But I love you, though," he protested.

"That's not going to work forever."

"I'll take my chances."

When they got to Dalton, Blaine insisted on taking Kurt on a tour of the campus, saying that since Kurt would have so much free time while Blaine was in class, he should get to know where he could spend it.

After a tour that was just vague enough that Kurt would probably get lost in spite of, they brought things up to Blaine's dorm room, which _had_ to be on an upper floor in a building with a broken elevator.

As soon as everything was in the room, Kurt went into one of Blaine's bags and fished out a bag of toiletries. "I am sweaty and I need a shower," he announced before disappearing into the bathroom.

Blaine chuckled and shook his head fondly, admiring the other boy's dedication to his cleanliness. To pass the time until Kurt returned, he set himself to the task of unpacking his clothes into his dresser drawers.

The door to the room swung open, and through it walked a blond boy with a duffel bag on his shoulder and dragging a suitcase behind him. He set the duffel bag down on his bed as he flopped down on it with an _oomph_. "Hey, Blaine," he greeted, "You beat me for once! Finally figured out how to put things in your trunk, eh?"

Blaine laughed as he turned to face his roommate. "No such luck, Jeff," he replied. "I had help."

Jeff nodded, sitting up. "Maybe someday," he said.

"Someday," he agreed, sitting down on the edge of his mattress.

It seemed that it was at this moment Jeff had finally taken inventory of the room around him, and frowned down at the floor. "Hey Blaine, what's with all the feathers? This is almost as bad as that time that Pavarotti was sick and Trent thought it would be a good idea to—_whoa_."

Jeff's eyes had gone wide as he looked at something over Blaine's shoulder. Grinning knowingly, Blaine turned around to see Kurt stepping out of the bathroom, neatly dressed with his hair damp yet perfectly in place (how he did it, Blaine would never understand).

"Oh," Kurt said, seemingly just as surprised at Jeff's presence as Jeff was by his.

"So who's this?" Jeff asked even though the answer was fairly obvious if he noticed Kurt's wings, which were large enough that there was really no way he _didn't_. To be fair, though, he still looked completely dumbstruck by the fact that Kurt was there, even though he was not, by any stretch, the first pet he'd come into contact with.

"Oh, right. Jeff, this," Blaine said, standing up and slipping his hand into Kurt's, "is Kurt. And Kurt, this is Jeff, my roommate."

Eyeing their joined hands, Jeff raised his eyebrows. Most masters opted to make it clear they _owned_ their pet by keeping a possessive arm around their waist. The sight of Blaine and Kurt's hands, perfectly slotted together, was a far more caring, romantic-seeming gesture than he was used to seeing. "Are you…?" he began, his voice trailing off as he realized that he wasn't sure exactly how to say what exactly he was asking.

"Yes," Blaine answered. "Whatever it is that you're about to ask, chances are, the answer is yes."

Jeff bit his lip, nodding slowly. "There are, actually, a lot of questions I have," he said, looking between the two boys in front of him.

Kurt's eyes widened. "We're not having sex!" he exclaimed. As soon as it came out of his mouth, he seemed to realize what he had just said and snapped his jaw shut, his cheeks reddening.

The blond looked for a moment like he was trying his best to not react, but that quickly turned to loud, boisterous laughter that had him doubling over. After a moment during which Kurt shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, Jeff recovered enough to say, "Blaine, you've got a keeper!"

Blaine grinned. "I like to think so," he said brightly, looking over at Kurt and squeezing his hand.

Jeff looked at them, smiling. "Are you guys, like, boyfriends?" he asked, because that was the first question he had wanted to ask.

"Um…" Kurt mumbled awkwardly, looking over at Blaine. It wasn't a conversation they'd ever had before. He'd never brought it up, since it was a relatively taboo thing for a pet and its master to actually date, much less have labels like 'boyfriend'.

"Of course!" Blaine affirmed, grinning widely.

"Good," Jeff said, nodding approvingly. "It's about time you got a hand to hold." There was a look on his face when he looked at Blaine that Kurt couldn't identify.

That look, though, made Kurt a bit uncomfortable, though, but not in a jealous way. It was in a way that made him think there was more to this story that met the eye, and he didn't like it. "Oh! I forgot to brush my teeth," he said, pulling his hand free from Blaine's and turning to go back into the bathroom. He closed the door but left it open a crack so he could hear if they spoke.

Which, of course, they did.

"He really cares about personal hygiene," he heard Blaine remark. "It's adorable, especially when you try to mess up his routines. It's a really good thing he's out of that facility. I don't know _how_ he survived it."

Jeff chuckled. "And that's a good thing," he said. "You've got those hearts in your eyes again, and for once the boy's making them at you, too."

"Since when did you become such a romantic?" Blaine asked, his tone surprised.

"Hey, now," he replied, "I can be serious when I need to be. And I just want you to know that I'm really, really happy for you. And now I need to go find Nick, and we can get all the Warblers that are already here together and we can rag on you!"

Blaine laughed, and Kurt could just see him rolling his eyes fondly. "There's the Jeff I know," he said.

"You know it!" Jeff said, followed by the sound of footsteps. "I'll be right back." The door opened and closed.

Kurt brushed his teeth quickly, his heart feeling oddly heavy at the realization that Blaine had had unrequited love in his past. It made sense, of course. Not that there was anything wrong with Blaine, but from what he had gathered, love seemed to be unrequited more often than it was returned, especially if you were gay.

Blaine appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, knocking with the back of his knuckles on the door. "Hey, are you hungry?" he asked. "Because I'm pretty sure that whatever Jeff has in mind probably involves food. He and Nick have bottomless stomachs."

Kurt glanced over at Blaine out of the corner of his eye as he rinsed of his toothbrush with great care. "That's lovely," he said with a laugh, trying to hide the fact that the idea of meeting a bunch of Blaine's friends at once terrified him.

But Blaine, who had seemed to become more and more attuned to Kurt's thoughts and feelings as time went on, noticed. "Hey now," he said, reaching out and gently caressing Kurt's right wing. "What did I tell you?"

"They're going to like me," he repeated.

"Right," he said. "And I wasn't lying. Jeff liked you, and if Jeff likes something, then Nick likes it, too. And if Nick and Jeff like something, well, everyone else ends up liking it, too, even if they don't like it immediately."

Kurt's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to protest, but Blaine cut him off.

"_But_, they're going to like you right away, so it's not a problem," he said. "Unless one of them tries to steal you. Because you know what, Kurt?" He leaned forward towards Kurt, his voice lowering. "You are _mine_."

That was the most completely, undeniably possessive statement Blaine had ever made towards him, and Kurt would be lying if he said that it didn't send an excited shiver down his spine.

Blaine's lips captured his, and he immediately moaned into Blaine's mouth. He would have been embarrassed, but at that moment his mind was stuck on the way Blaine had practically _growled_ the word 'mine' and no one had even looked twice at Kurt yet. Just a few weeks ago he would have panicked at the idea of Blaine getting possessive over him, but right now it just felt really good.

He slipped a hand up onto the back of Blaine's neck, tangling his fingers in the loose hairs on Blaine's nape as he tilted his head to get a better angle. And then there was just Blaine's tongue against his, his body exploding full of sensation and the thrill at the idea of being completely owned by Blaine even though technically it was already a reality. Maybe it was because Blaine had, from the very start, made it clear that their relationship would not be a usual pet-master relationship and why was he even thinking about this when Blaine was doing such amazing things with his mouth? Blaine nipping gently at Kurt's tongue made any vestige of thought disappear from his mind and he leaned into Blaine to get just _that much_ closer—

"Oh my god!"

The startled exclamation made Kurt and Blaine spring apart in a way that you usually only actually saw in movies, and would have been comical if they hadn't just been walked in on by two of Blaine's friends.

"Jeff, I thought you said that Blaine's pretty boyfriend said they weren't having sex," a boy, presumably Nick since that was who Jeff had gone to get, said, eyes wide as he looked Kurt over.

"Maybe he lied! I don't know," Jeff whimpered in reply. "Oh, god, it's like walking in on your parents. Or at least your dad and some guy."

"A pretty guy, though."

"Uh, Nick?" Blaine said at about the same time Kurt mumbled an awkward 'thank you,' refusing to look up at any of them.

"So, Nick just sent out a mass text and we're going to grab a late lunch with everyone that is here, and we are going to pretend that didn't happen," Jeff said, his face red. "Plan? Plan." He turned to leave the room.

"But _Jeff_, I haven't been introduced to the pretty guy yet," Nick whined.

"Alright, fine," Jeff said. "Nick, this is the pretty guy, who is also Blaine's boyfriend. Apparently he and Blaine make out. And Kurt, this is Nick. He thinks you're pretty."

"That was the worst introduction ever," Nick said, frowning.

Blaine chuckled, stepping forward. "Nick, this is Kurt, my boyfriend," he said. "And Kurt, this is Nick. He's… let's just say you never want to be alone with him and Jeff."

"It's nice to meet you," he said to Kurt, looking more pleased with this introduction. He moved to shake Kurt's hand, but hesitated, looking over at Blaine. "Can I…?"

Blaine sighed. "He may technically be my… property, but we're just going to all ignore that and treat him like a normal person," he said tiredly. He had known that trying to introduce Kurt to other people would be an interesting experience, but he hadn't entirely thought about just _how_ difficult it would be.

"Right, sorry," Nick said. "Some people get weird about it." Turning back to Kurt, he grinned widely, offering his hand out to shake. "It's so nice to meet you!" When Kurt extended his hand, Nick shook it with much gusto.

"Likewise," Kurt said, a small smile crossing his lips. The brunette's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Let's go get some lunch," Jeff said.


	4. Part Four

**Sorry for the wait (if anyone is actually continuing to read this in which case _thank you_), I am catching up to where I've written and I hadn't had time to write this weekend, what with Christmas and all. :)**

* * *

><p>When they got to the dining hall, they were greeted by a group of boys sitting around a table. As soon as a boy with dark hair waved them over, the questions began.<p>

"Nick said Blaine has big news. What's going on?"

"Jeff, why's your face so red?"

"Holy wings, who's pet is that?"

"Wait, Blaine, did your parents seriously buy you a pet?"

"Can I touch it?"

"Is it staying at Dalton? But the walls are so thin…"

Kurt stiffened, freezing up under the boys' questioning gazes.

"Calm down, baby," Blaine whispered for only Kurt to hear, pulling out a chair for him. He felt the rest on the Warblers' stares on him. Most pet owners made their pets perform small tasks like pulling out chairs for them, not the other way around. Suddenly all the little differentiations between master-pet relationships and normal human relationships—differentiations that Blaine had made sure to keep absent from his relationship with Kurt—were popping up into his mind now that they were out of the seclusion of his house.

"So…," one boy started, eyeing Kurt nervously, "I see you're being a bit unconventional."

Blaine let out an anxious laugh. "Yeah, Wes, we are," he said. His throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and he felt almost as nervous as he had when he had come out to his parents. Telling Nick and Jeff about the nature of his relationship with Kurt had been easy like he knew it would be; they were easy-going and accepting of almost everything. The rest of the Warblers, though, had many and varied opinions and he was starting to think that telling them with Kurt right there was not a good idea. _No_, he thought, steeling himself, _These are your best friends. They're going to understand_. "Very unconventional." _Now or never_. Reaching over and clasping Kurt's hand in his own, he said, "I… I'm in love with him."

There was a moment of silence as Blaine's words sunk in. Trent, who everyone was sure had a crush on Blaine, looked like he was going to cry. Flint's cup of water had stopped halfway up to his face. David was grinning and nudging Thad, who was also smiling and whispering excitedly into David's ear. Kurt seemed to be trying to disappear into his seat, his wings slowly curling around himself.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Wes asked, his face concerned.

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked.

"You know what I mean, Blaine," he said. "You and I, and everyone at this table knows that a lot of people think that having feelings for a pet is disgusting, and—"

"Two things. One, some people think being gay is disgusting, and we both know better than that. Two, Kurt isn't just some pet. He's an angel."

Another shock went through the table, though this time the reactions were split between _aww_ing at Blaine's declaration that Kurt was an angel, and nervously looking at each other waiting for Wes' retort.

"Look, Blaine, I'm not trying to make you mad or upset or anything. Hell, I'm just as happy about this as Thad over here," Wes said, "It's great to see you happy. But you're just setting yourself up to be hurt here—physically and emotionally. How do you know that it—_he_ loves you back? A lot of people say that pets can't actually feel human emo—"

"Okay, that's enough," Kurt finally spoke up. "I am right _fucking_ here." Blaine squeezed his hand in an attempt to calm him down as he glared with a smile across the table at Wes, who looked rather taken aback. "And I would really appreciate it if you would not undermine my feelings for Blaine when you've only just met me."

"Kurt, I'm sorry, I—"

"Don't worry about it," Kurt said, "I'm not one to hold a grudge based on first impressions."

There was an awkward silence where no one knew what to say until David called out, "Wes just got _told!"_

Laughter went around the table, everyone eager to ease the tension at the table.

Standing up, Nick said, "Now, I love gossip as much as the next guy, don't get me wrong, but I came here for food." Wordlessly, Jeff stood up from his seat and joined him in search of something to eat.

"Hey, do you want something to eat?" Blaine asked Kurt, moving to stand up.

"No, I'm fine," he replied. "If you get something good I'll just take it from you."

"I don't have to take this abuse, you know," he said, kissing Kurt's cheek and leaving the table.

"So, Nick and Jeff… Are they ever apart?" Kurt asked, watching the boys in question shoving each other as they loaded up their plates.

Thad laughed, scooting over into the seat next to Kurt that Jeff had just vacated. "Never," he said. "They're attached at the hip."

"Good to know," Kurt laughed.

"Oh, by the way, I'm Thad," he said, reaching out a hand.

Smiling, he shook it. "Nice to meet you, Thad."

"It's nice to meet _you_," he replied. "You seem like quite the character."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, it's a good thing," he replied, nodding. "You can keep Blaine on his toes."

"Well, it's relatively easy to keep Blaine on his toes," Nick replied, walking up with Jeff and Blaine. "Just ask a relatively tall shelf."

"Or just a shelf," Jeff added. "Maybe a little on the short side."

"Do you see this, Kurt?" Blaine asked, gesturing to Nick and Jeff and shaking his head. "I have to deal with this, all the time!"

"It must be hard being you," Kurt said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. Smiling, he added, "It's a good thing you've got me." He leaned over and gave Blaine a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.

If either of them had looked around the table at that moment (which they didn't, because when you're young and in love, you develop tunnel vision and stop caring as much about the other people around you), they would have seen smiles on every Warbler's face, including Wes'.

The next day, Kurt sat on the floor folding Jeff's clothes that had been unceremoniously tossed straight from his hamper to the floor. Jeff had taken Blaine off to do something (Jeff had been exceptionally vague, worrying both Blaine and Kurt), and Kurt had found the pile of clothes appalling and unacceptable.

Kurt started at the sound of a knock at the door, simultaneously glad and terrified that he was the only one in the room—no one saw him jump, but on the other hand, there was someone at the door and _no one else was there_.

He frowned, looking at the door as another knock sounded. He should probably just leave it. Whoever it was was probably looking for Blaine or Jeff and they'd go away if he waited long enough.

"Kurt? Are you in there?" Or maybe they weren't looking for Blaine or Jeff. Quieter, the voice continued, "I figured you'd be in here. Well, maybe you're sleeping. Anyways, it's Thad, and I thought you might want to hang out."

For a second, Kurt hesitated. But then he remembered how David and Thad had been so excited at lunch yesterday and how Thad had been so welcoming, and he knew that he could trust him. Besides, this was one of Blaine's friends. If he couldn't trust these boys, then who could he trust?

He stood and walked to the door, rolling his shoulders and adjusting his wings as he got to the door. Opening it, he saw the dark-haired Warbler turning to walk away.

"Oh, you're here!" Thad said, looking pleasantly surprised. "I was about to leave. Glad to see you, though, unless you were coming out here to tell me to leave."

Kurt laughed, stepping out the door and shutting it behind him. "Don't worry, I'm not," he said.

"Thank goodness," he replied, "I would have felt like such an ass. But anyways, I just thought you might go a bit stir-crazy if you had to stay in there all alone." He turned and started to walk off, gesturing for Kurt to follow.

"I don't _have_ to stay in there," Kurt pointed out.

Thad seemed surprised for a millisecond, then nodded and smiled. "Right, this is _Blaine_ we're talking about. I can't imagine him forcing you to stay somewhere." After a moment, he added, "Come to think of it, I can't really imagine him doing anything typical of a pet owner. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

Kurt sighed happily, comforted by the statement; it told him that Blaine's kindness wasn't just a façade, even though he was already fairly certain of that by now anyways. "Wait," he said, frowning. "Blaine didn't tell you to do this, did he?"

Thad shook his head. "Just thought you might want to spend some time out of your tower, Rapunzel," he replied. As an afterthought, he added, "Though, that does sound like something Blaine would do, doesn't it?" He laughed to himself.

The full impact of what had transpired over the past minute or two hit Kurt then. This boy, who he had just met the day before and even then only briefly, had been entirely willing to sneak him out of the dorm room if it had been necessary. There were good people in the world that weren't Blaine. This was a fact that he needed to remind himself.

"So, Kurt, what do you do for fun?" Thad asked, curious.

Kurt frowned. Up until Blaine had bought him (adopted him? There really wasn't a way to say it that didn't make it sound bad, Kurt realized), fun hadn't really been much of an option. "I read," he said.

He nodded. "I guess that was a bad question to ask, huh?" he said.

"It's a normal thing to ask a person," Kurt reasoned, "it just so happens that I didn't really have that option. But now I have Blaine." After he said it, he realized that it was probably a bad thing to say. The phrase 'I have' implies a sort of possession, and he didn't own Blaine. Blaine owned _him._

But Thad smiled and said, "Glad to hear it. Glad to know he has you, too, you know. He's always had a smile on his face, but you always sort of wondered. With you here, though… there's no question. The boy is happy."

For a bit they just walked in silence, Kurt letting the extent of what Thad had just said sink in. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not wrap his head around the idea of Blaine being anything other than the happy, caring boy he knew and loved.

Thad led them out into the crisp winter air and they walked side by side on the sidewalk. A sort of tension crackled under Kurt's skin. He was out in the open, in _public_, without his owner anywhere near him. He lowered his wings, as if them being slightly closer to the ground would make them any less noticeable.

"Problem?" Thad asked, brows furrowed.

For a second he was surprised that the other boy had had to ask. He had allowed himself to get so used to Blaine, who had seemed to develop an intuition towards Kurt's problems lately. "Just… people could see us, and pets aren't supposed to go anywhere without their masters, and I was told that from _day one_, and even if Blaine says—"

"If it becomes an issue, then we can just say you're _my_ pet, can't we?" Thad suggested.

"We can't _lie," _Kurt protested, his eyes widening at the idea.

"People do it all the time, Kurt," Thad said. "And besides, it's not usual for people to walk up to a person and a pet and start asking after the pet's ownership."

He relaxed slightly. "If anything happens, though," he said, "you're the one doing the lying. I can't lie."

As they walked, Thad chattered beside him about this thing or that, but Kurt couldn't focus on what he was saying, ghosts of hands striking his face. He was suddenly aware of every person around him, the thought crossing his mind that any one of them could a spy of some sort and knew what that he was misbehaving and his master was nowhere in sight.

A shift in Thad's tone brought Kurt out of his slightly panicked reverie. "I also have something to say on David's behalf," the Warbler was saying. "Or rather, David told me to tell you, on Wes' behalf. None of us really know the details except for David and Wes—they're best friends, you know—and even if we did know more, we probably wouldn't be able to tell them to you, but Wes has had a bad experience with a pet."

"What?" Kurt asked, frowning.

Thad nodded. "Like I said, I don't really know any details," he said. "Wes was pretty quiet about it. I think he honestly loved her. Which is why he's so hesitant about you. Obviously not all of you guys," Kurt noted the fact that he avoided using the word 'pet' in relation to him, "are not all the same, but I guess it's hard for him to see that. And we all really, really care about Blaine, so we're really protective of him."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked quietly.

"Look, Kurt," Thad sighed, looking down. "I'm not trying to make excuses for Wes' behavior. He was rude to you, and I think deep down even he knows that. I'm just trying to help you understand so you might not hate him."

"I don't hate him," Kurt said firmly. "Like I said, I don't make judgments based on first impressions. When you've been in my position, you realize that it really, really sucks to have people make decisions about you or who you are based on what they've heard about people _like_ you."

Thad nodded. "You could really teach people a lesson in being human," he replied quietly, as if in awe.

Kurt laughed. "Too bad they'd never listen, huh?" he said.

"Maybe someday."

They spent the next hour walking around Dalton's campus, talking about things of little consequence because you can only have so many serious conversations in a day, and besides, Kurt was nowhere near focused enough to hold up a real conversation. His mind was swimming with memories, terrifying memories of his days at the facility, and he was only just barely managing to anchor himself in reality by trying to listen to the lull of Thad's voice.

When Thad deposited Kurt back in front of his door, Kurt was pleased to find that it was occupied by his boyfriend and no one else.

He collapsed into the bed where Blaine sat and curled up against him, rubbing his face against Blaine's shoulder.

"You're cuddly," Blaine remarked, looking up from the textbook page he was reading.

"Your sweater's soft," Kurt replied, slipping his arms around Blaine's waist and pulling him in tightly against him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning his chin on top of Kurt's head.

"_Mmm-hmm_," Kurt affirmed, nodding slightly against Blaine's shoulder.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I am now," he replied.

"But before?"

"I'm safe as long as I'm with you, Blaine," Kurt mumbled, tilting his head to press a kiss to Blaine's neck. "Simple as that."

"What happened? Did Thad do something, because I swear to God—"

"Isn't that taking the lord's name in vain?" Kurt asked. "And from what I've gathered, taking the lord's name in vain is frowned upon."

"You're deflecting."

"Just trying to distract you because everything is fine and nothing happened. I'm just happy to be here with you."

"I'm just trying to figure out why it is that you're suddenly so happy to see me," Blaine said, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist. It wasn't that Blaine wasn't happy to have a cuddly Kurt in his arms, of course not; it was just that the angel wasn't usually like that.

"Because I love you," he said. "And when I'm with you I don't think about all the bad things that could happen, or what happened to me before or anything…"

With that, a puzzle piece slid into place in Blaine's mind. "Did you have a flashback today?" he asked.

Kurt simply made a little noise of affirmation, tightening his grip around Blaine.

"Oh, _Kurt,_" Blaine murmured, kissing the top of Kurt's head. He moved so they were both laying across the bed, Kurt still clinging to him. He knew how it felt to have your mind cruelly bring up painful, terrifying memories.

"But it's okay," Kurt said softly. "I told you, I feel safe with you."

"I want you to feel safe all the time," he said.

"And I want to be a normal person," Kurt countered.

"You are normal," Blaine said, frowning.

A smile graced Kurt's lips. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Blaine replied, reaching out and tugging Kurt closer to him.

There was a long silence after that, in which Blaine's hands ran slowly up and down Kurt's back.

"This is the first time I've actually felt scared since before you told me you wouldn't _do things_ to me," Kurt said softly. "I think that's why it's affecting me so much."

"Baby, you don't need to explain yourself to me," Blaine whispered in reply.

Kurt cracked a smile. "I never figured I'd like being called baby," he said.

"But do you?" Blaine asked. "Because if you don't, I can stop and—"

Kurt stopped him with a kiss. "I love it," he replied. "It's another reminder of what we have, you know? You don't run around calling everyone you know 'baby'."

"That you know of," Blaine replied, causing both of them to start laughing.

"Careful, now," he replied, making an effort to keep his face straight. "You might make me jealous."

"Jealous of who?" he asked, amused.

"_Everyone_," Kurt said, nodding seriously.

"That's a lot of people."

"Are you doubting my ability?" One thin eyebrow went up.

"And now this sounds like a challenge to make you jealous of everyone," Blaine replied.

Kurt laughed, but after a second he shook his head. "I wouldn't, if I were you," he said warningly, "or else we'll break up and I'll make out with some random guy just to get your attention, and—"

"You wouldn't do that," Blaine replied.

"Watch me," he said.

Their banter went on and eventually declined into mumbled half-words and phrases that barely had any intended meaning as they grew drowsy but didn't feel like ending their conversation.

Hours later, when Jeff returned to the room for the night, he found them curled up tight against each other. It didn't take much convincing from Nick to take a picture. It was a cute picture, after all, and maybe they'd appreciate it when they got old and wrinkly (Jeff knew they'd never break up, and even if they did, he was happy with the delusion).

Kurt hated it when Blaine had classes. Considering the fact that Dalton was a school, that was a lot of the time.

He had brought the books Blaine had given him for Christmas, of course. But there was only so much reading one could do before he got bored. Not to mention the issue arose that while reading he would lay down on Blaine's bed, which smelled like Blaine's shampoo and was highly distracting.

In theory, he could go out and find something to entertain himself on campus. In the time since classes had started up again, he had made two trips outside while Blaine was in class. Both times, though, he had felt the stares of the students milling around Dalton's campus on him—after all, he had wings—and quickly returned to Blaine's room or one of the various study rooms that were usually empty during classes.

There was one option, however, that he had not tried out yet.

On one of Kurt's first days at Dalton, David had offhandedly mentioned the fact that Dalton had a coffee shop which was, apparently, empty most of the time, save the workers in it. Most of the Dalton boys would pop in to get their coffee on their way to class, and go on with their day. Occasionally the Warblers would have casual, unofficial meetings there to discuss song selections or how they had done at competitions and how they aimed to do better. Because of these meetings and a shared addiction to coffee, they had all grown fond of the place and individual Warblers could often be seen leisurely enjoying a cup of coffee and collecting their thoughts. Other than the Warblers, though, no one stayed in the shop for all too long at a time. As far as options went, Kurt had definitely heard far worse ones.

Kurt had been trying to convince himself to go for weeks now. But today, he was definitely going.

As he stepped into the quiet and, sure enough, nearly empty coffee shop, it struck him as a bit funny that he'd spent so long trying to work up the nerve to go for a cup of coffee.

Smiling from that thought, he stepped up to the counter, where the sole man working the shop was finishing up a drink for a boy in a Dalton blazer. The barista reached the cup out to the boy who said a quick 'thank you' and left the room.

The barista looked over at Kurt, his head physically moving backwards in surprise, which made sense considering the fact that he was an angel literally unsupervised by anyone.

"You're Blaine Anderson's 'angel', aren't you?" he asked, complete with air quotes.

He didn't sound hostile, though, so Kurt nodded. "Yes," he said quietly.

He nodded appreciatively. "Good man," he said. "What can I get for you?"

Kurt ordered a grande nonfat mocha and watched in silence as the man prepared his coffee with care.

The barista set the cup down on the counter. Kurt noticed this move. Despite the fact that the man in front of him seemed to have no problem with him, he was still reluctant to risk their hands making physical contact.

That fact made Kurt slightly uncomfortable as he grabbed the coffee and sat down at a table. But he forgot his discomfort as soon as he brought the cup to his lips. The coffee had to have been crafted by God himself (if there was a God, of course). He was in love.

When Kurt told him that he had made a trip to the coffee shop, Blaine was overjoyed. He knew that Kurt was bored but was too polite to say anything about it, and he was glad that he had found another place he felt safe.

That said, Kurt was the sort of person who should not be in one place for too long. Blaine was still trying to figure out how Kurt had managed to spend about half of his life in the facility and came out not only sane but also one of the greatest people he had ever met.

There was a park not too far from Dalton's campus, and while it wasn't much, it was enough to let Kurt get some fresh air and new sights.

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked, staring out the window of Blaine's car as buildings and trees passed by.

"When are you going to learn that I'm never going to tell you where we're going?" he asked, smiling over at Kurt.

"Never," Kurt replied with a grin. "Because maybe someday you'll cave and tell me."

"You'd be disappointed that the game is over."

"You'd be disappointed that you _lost_. You hate it when you lose."

Blaine sighed and nodded. "Right you are," he agreed. "Which is why I am never going to lose."

Kurt didn't say anything, just smirked at him from his place in the passenger seat.

"No, don't take that as a challenge," Blaine protested quickly. "That was not a challenge, Kurt. You will lose."

"You're going to lose," Kurt replied simply, grinning.

Blaine sighed, frowning over-exaggeratedly at Kurt. "It hurts when you underestimate me," he complained.

Just as soon as Kurt opened his mouth to reply, Blaine stomped on the breaks. "Here!" he declared.

Kurt blinked. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

"Because you didn't expect me to stop," he replied. "I'm spontaneous."

"You're insane," Kurt said, getting out of the car and unfurling his wings; he had developed a skill for holding his wings compactly yet comfortably in the car.

Blaine pouted. "You like it, though," he said, moving to Kurt's side.

Kurt smiled at him. "I like _you_," he said, kissing Blaine's cheek. "So, tell me, what's Blaine's master plan here?"

Blaine shrugged.

"Really?" Kurt asked. "I was expecting you to have a plan."

"My plan was mostly to spend the day with you," Blaine admitted. "I figured we could go for a walk or something. I mean, it's a park. The possibilities are endless."

Kurt grinned. "Seriously, Blaine, I… there's no way you're real," he said.

One thing Blaine would always love about Kurt was that he genuinely had _no_ idea how clichéd and cheesy some of the things he said were when it came to romance. "I hope I'm real," Blaine replied. "I'd hate to think I'm just a figment of—"

"Is that a _duck_?" Kurt cut him off, staring over his shoulder at something.

When Blaine turned around to see what Kurt was looking at, he found a duck waddling through the grass away from them.

"I don't think you understand. I love ducks," Kurt said before darting off after the duck.

Not surprisingly, once the duck noticed the person running after it, it took off into the air to get away.

"No, come back!" he called out, taking off running after the duck. "I want to be your friend!" He didn't seem to care that the duck neither understood English nor showed any intent of landing any time soon.

Blaine chuckled to himself, glad to see such a carefree, genuinely happy Kurt. He followed Kurt as he chased the duck, seemingly completely reluctant to give up the pursuit. Eventually the duck led them to a pond, which it safely landed in the middle of and quickly joined a group of other ducks.

Kurt sat down by the edge of the pond, glaring at the water. "I just wanted to be friends," he said. "He could have just said no."

"Kurt, he's a duck. He can't say anything," Blaine pointed out gently.

Kurt frowned. Looking down at his clothes, he asked, "Do you still have towels in the car?"

"Yeah, why?" Without answering, Kurt was on his feet. "Kurt, no, you are not—" There was a splash and then Kurt was in the water, effectively cutting Blaine off. "Oh my god. What are you _doing_?"

"Birds of a feather, Blaine! Birds of a feather!" Kurt called back to him, awkwardly moving his arms and wings to stay afloat.

"That is not an excuse to just jump in a pond," he retorted. Watching Kurt's inelegant movements in the water, he asked, "and do you even know how to swim? I thought you were supposed to be the sane one."

"You didn't expect me to jump in the water! I'm _spontaneous_," Kurt replied, echoing Blaine's earlier statement as he turned to swim into deeper water.

Blaine watched his boyfriend splashing through the water with a sigh. "You are going to be _all_ wet, and you are going to regret it," he said.

Kurt didn't say anything as he continued swimming. Once he got close to the group of ducks, they all scattered and he let out a loud sound of exasperation.

"I told you you'd regret it!" Blaine called out to him, though there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

Once Kurt got back to the edge of the water, he climbed out slowly and shook himself off. Flapping his wings and sending droplets of water flying in all directions, he said, "If I ever do something stupid like that ever again, you really need to stop me."

"Aw, but—"

"He's right, son." They both turned to see a man who looked to be in his thirties or forties looking at them with a frown on his face.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked.

"That is your pet, and it is your responsibility to keep it under control," the man said.

"He didn't hurt anyone," Blaine argued. He was growing tired of having to defend Kurt or their relationship; not because he didn't feel like doing it anymore or that did didn't think Kurt was worth it, but he really didn't think he should need to explain.

"It made a spectacle of itself, and as its master, it is your responsibility to keep it under control. It's like a dog. If you don't train it, it will never respect you and it will start to act wild. As its owner, it is expected of you to control it."

"As a _person_, it is expected of you to mind your own business and be polite to others," Blaine said, glaring at the man.

The man frowned. Turning away, he said, "If you don't discipline it, it will forget that it is your possession."

"Good!" Blaine continued to glare at the man as he walked away. "I honestly can't—_Kurt_." When he looked at Kurt, he saw his angel's eyes downcast and with a frown on his face. He stepped forward, holding his arms out to pull him into a hug, but Kurt stepped away from him quickly.

"I'm wet," he offered by way of explanation.

"I don't really care, baby, you're upset," Blaine replied.

"Blaine, it's fine, really, I just—" It was made all the more clear to Blaine that it was _not_ fine, really, when Kurt's voice cracked. He moved to hug Kurt again, but he stepped back quickly.

Blaine was suddenly filled with a complete and utter anger towards the man. "You know he's wrong, don't you?" he asked. "He's just… he's just a _fucking _asshole. You are not at all comparable to a dog and you are _not_ just another one of the fancy things I own." Kurt didn't say anything. "You never will be just that. You are my whole heart."

"I'm just so tired of…" Kurt started, trailing off with a sigh and turning and starting to walk back towards the car.

"Tired of what?"

Kurt didn't say anything until they reached the car. Pulling a towel out of the trunk, he started drying himself off. "I'm tired of everyone, _everyone_ always going on and on about how I'm your pet, or your possession, _your_ Kurt," he said. Looking up at Blaine, he quickly added, "Don't get me wrong, I am so, so proud to be yours. Don't even for a second think that I would ever even hesitate to proudly declare myself yours. But we're more than that, you know?

"Like you just said that I'm your heart. Well, see, Blaine, you're my heart, too. I am entirely serious when I say that you are my everything. You matter _so_ much to me that sometimes it's scary, and no one seems to see that."

When he heard those words, Blaine decided that he didn't care how wet Kurt still was, he _needed_ to hold him. He rushed forward, pulling Kurt into his arms. "I'm yours, too, Kurt," he whispered into Kurt's ear. "In every way that matters, I am yours."

"But I'm more yours than you are—"

"Kurt, I don't give a damn about the fact that some papers say that you're my property. We are equals, and before anyone else thinks that, you need to believe it, too."

Blaine wasn't sure whether it was a tear or just a water droplet that ran down Kurt's cheek just then. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Kurt," he replied. "Now let's just get back to Dalton and cuddle while we play Apples to Apples with Nick and Jeff and pretend to get annoyed by their comments."

Blaine knew that Kurt was lonely and, he assumed, still upset about the fact that he would always be thought of as _Blaine's_, and he really wished that he knew what to do about it. He wanted to curl up in bed with Kurt and over and over declare himself _Kurt's_. Or at least spend time with Kurt to remind him that he appreciated him more than anything in the world. But time was the issue. He just didn't have any of it.

He spent almost all of his time that he wasn't in class or at Warbler rehearsal with Kurt, and it was almost starting to feel like he was three separate people: Blaine, the attentive student; Blaine, the lead singer for the Warblers; and Blaine, loving boyfriend to an angel who went by the name of Kurt.

Granted, those lives did have some overlapping. When he did his work for his classes, Kurt would sit beside him and help or ask questions if there was something he was curious about, and the Warblers would all ask him how Kurt was doing or they would include Kurt in some of their activities.

As Blaine sat in yet another Warbler meeting in which Thad and Trent were, apparently, insulting each other's honor, a thought struck him.

"Guys, if you'll put aside your bickering," he said, causing both Thad and Trent to look down a bit shamefully, "I have an idea."

* * *

><p><strong>As you may have noticed, this update was a bit shorter than the rest. Originally the scene in which they play Apples to Apples was included in this part, but as I wrote it, it got increasingly cracky to the extent that I was basically just dicking around with it. If anyone is interested,I've been considering posting it and some other alternatedeleted scenes once I've finished the fic as a sort of blooper reel. If anyone is interested...?**

**Assuming all goes to plan, the next update should include (at least) a serenade, a fairytale (as only Nick and Jeff can tell it), and an overheard proposition.**


	5. Part Five

**Sorry this took so long, I am officially out of material that was written ahead, and I am nowhere near as close to the finish as I thought I was when I started posting this. I'll try to update in a timely manner, though. :)**

**Also, big, big thank you to joycelene on LJ, who reced this fic on the KB weekly rec post. Not gonna lie, I got really excited when I saw that.**

* * *

><p>"What are we doing here?"<p>

Kurt sat forward on his couch seat, watching as Thad paced around the room.

"Oh, nothing," Thad replied, far too nonchalantly for the answer to actually be _nothing_.

"Then why won't you sit down?" he asked.

"Because I need to keep an eye out for—a pizza! I ordered us a pizza!"

"I don't eat pizza," Kurt pointed out, smirking.

"Well, I ordered a pizza. A, uh, big pizza," he said, frowning. "I am really hungry."

Kurt sighed, coming to terms with the fact that Thad was not going to tell him what was going on. If he kept asking, Thad would continue to stumble to one unbelievable lie after another. For a smart boy, he was terrible at lying.

One of his feathers fluttered to the ground, catching his eye and making him glare down at it. When he looked back up, Thad was gone from the room.

He sighed, and as soon as he was about to stand back up to leave the room, he heard Thad's voice telling him to 'sit down, just sit down'. He obeyed, and just as soon as he was about to ask why, the singing started.

It started with the Warblers (minus Blaine but including Thad) filed into the room in two lines and lining up around the room, singing low _oohs_ together. Kurt furrowed his brows, confused, though there was no denying the slight smile that was tugging at his lips.

When Blaine burst through the door, though, that smile broke out into a grin as the realization dawned on him as to what exactly was going on.

"_Baby, I'm yours…"_ As Blaine began to sing, staring at Kurt with a grin on his face and looking maybe a bit more energetic and enthusiastic than the song called for, but he was singing to his _boyfriend_ who he was in love with, and he had that right_. "And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky. Yours, until the rivers all run dry."_ He dropped to his knees as he sang, _"In other words, until I die."_

Throughout the rest of the song, Blaine and Kurt didn't take their eyes off each other for even a second. The rest of the Warblers could have ripped off all of their clothing and neither of them would have noticed.

Blaine danced around the room and made a show of it, though he didn't really need to. Kurt would have loved it if he'd been lying face down on the floor singing it because he was singing it _to_ him. _"And I'll be yours until two and two is three; yours, until the mountains crumble to the sea,"_ he sang. Leaning over the side of the chair Kurt sat in, he stage-whispered, _"In other words, until eternity."_

By the end of the song, there were tears rolling down Kurt's face. As the Warblers finished out the last few notes, Blaine sat down on the coffee table in front of Kurt's seat and taking his hands. _"Baby, I'm yours."_

For a moment they stared at each other in silence, smiling softly at each other.

A thought seemed to cross Blaine's mind, and he furrowed his brows. "Happy tears?"

"Happy tears," Kurt confirmed with a nod. After a moment, he frowned slightly and asked, "Why did you do that?"

"I feel like the song sort of spoke for itself, Kurt," Blaine said, laughing. "But if you need me to tell you point blank, I can."

"Tell me point blank."

Blaine grinned. "One of these days I'll get smart about the fact that you just want to be complimented, and refuse to inflate your ego anymore," he said.

"Well, sure," he replied, "But in the meantime…"

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, then promptly closed it again, chuckling to himself. "Alright," he said. "In the meantime, I wanted to remind you that you are the most important person in my life and this," he pulled one of his hands away from Kurt's and held it over his heart, "This right here, is yours. Completely and forever."

"_Blaine_," Kurt said in reply, because really there weren't sufficient words to say what it was that he wanted to say. He leaned forward and kissed him, using his now free hand to reach up and hold Blaine's face.

Neither boy noticed as the Warblers filed out of the room (though David had to grab Nick by the elbow and practically drag him out of the room) silently, leaving them to each other.

"You already know this," Kurt murmured, pulling back from Blaine and leaning his forehead against his boyfriend's. He moved his hand from Blaine's face and put it against his own heart. "But I figure I should remind you. This, too, is yours."

"Completely?" Blaine asked, smiling.

"And forever."

There was still one thing that Kurt was curious about, and as much as he loathed to admit it, he knew the best way to get the answers he wanted.

And that was how Kurt ended up sitting in between Nick and Jeff in the coffee shop, sipping his coffee and watching Nick feverishly stirring seemingly anything he could think of into his cup of tea.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked.

"This tea tastes _horrible_," he replied, frowning down at it.

"Weren't you just extoling its virtues last time we were here?" Kurt asked, watching in disgust as Nick poured salt (_salt_, of all things) into the cup. Ever since Kurt's first trip to the coffee shop, he had made regular visits. Often enough, he would be joined by one or more of the Warblers, who had, true to Blaine's words, accepted him as one of their own.

"Sometimes it's good," Nick replied frowning.

"It's really a fifty-fifty sort of thing," Jeff said, leaning over and pouring some of his coffee into the cup. "He's a risk-taker."

"Nothing more dangerous than bad tea, after all," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

"Exactly!" Nick agreed, grinning widely. "I'm so glad you understand me, Kurt." He took a sip of the modified drink and shuddered, pushing it away from him, muttering, "Maybe next time."

"So, Kurt," Jeff said, leaning back and throwing an arm around the back of Kurt's chair, though being careful to not touch Kurt's wings (much like Blaine, he was hesitant to touch and certainly wasn't going to ask, even if he was one to overstep boundaries), "You called us up to have coffee with you. Now, don't get me wrong, I love spending time with my favorite winged roomie and all, but you seem to avoid spending time alone with us."

"It's because of you, Jeff," Nick said. "Kurt loves me. I love Kurt back. Hey Kurt, do you love me?"

Kurt chuckled, rolling his eyes. "No."

"Kurt loves me."

"I don't recall saying that," he replied.

"Blaine doesn't know it," Jeff said, "but you're secretly a really, really mean person."

Nick sighed. "It hurts, Kurt, to know you don't love me," he said.

"Isn't my love enough for you, Nick?" Jeff asked, pouting.

"I just want _all_ the love," Nick replied with a frown. Turning to Kurt, he smiled hopefully.

"Alright, Nick, I love you," Kurt relented. "But only if you answer a question for me."

He beamed, jumping forward to hug Kurt. He awkwardly moved his hands on Kurt's back, frowning at the realization that hugging someone who had large wings sticking out of their shoulder blades was _weird_. Sitting back, he nodded at him. "Anything," Nick said. "Anything to have your love."

"Taken out of context, that would be a really weird statement," Jeff pointed out. "Anyways, carry on."

"All of you guys have made the fact that Blaine and I are dating out to be a huge deal for Blaine," Kurt said, "and something tells me I'm missing something."

"Shit," Nick said, frowning. "How did Blaine get someone so smart?"

"He knows how to pick them," Jeff said.

"Except he doesn't," he said, shaking his head. Looking at Kurt, he added, "Which is exactly why you're right: you _are_ missing something. Our dearest Blainers has not had the best luck with men in the past."

Kurt didn't say anything, just stared between the two normally mischievous but now remarkably somber boys, waiting for them to elaborate.

"There are two very, very bad men in Blaine's past," Nick said gently, taking Kurt's hand in his.

"Maybe we should tell this story in the form of a fairytale," Jeff suggested. "It's a sad story, but at least in the end Prince Blaine will rescue the handsome damsel Kurt!"

Nick brightened visibly. "I like that idea," he said. "You start."

"Once upon a time, there was a prince named Blaine," Jeff said.

"A very handsome, dapper prince," Nick added. Jeff looked at him oddly, and he explained, "For Kurt's benefit," and gestured for him to continue.

"Anyways, the very handsome, dapper Prince Blaine was a special prince," Jeff said. "He liked other princes even though everyone thought he should like princesses. They looked down on him because he liked princes."

"But don't you fret, Kurtsie, because that didn't get Prince Blaine down!" Nick said brightly. "Eventually he came to the Kingdom of Dalton, where he met the Warblers, Dalton's strong, also handsome knights! The kings of Dalton—Wes and David, obviously—"

"I should mention now that Wes and David are not the same sort of royalty as Blaine—they like princesses and queens," Jeff said. "Just in case this gets around to them."

"Right," Nick said, nodding. "Anyway, our dear Kings took quite a liking to Blaine, and so basically he was one of our kings, too. All the people in the kingdom of Dalton absolutely loved him."

"But there are bad people in the world who like to make happy people sad," Jeff said, shaking his head and frowning.

"And have bad hair," Nick added.

"You're getting ahead of yourself, there," Jeff said.

"What's that about hair?" Kurt asked.

"There was once a, um, crap. An assistant king from the Gap?" Jeff said. "Yeah, an assistant king from the Gap. His name was Jeremiah."

"He was a cruel, cruel leader," Nick said mournfully.

"But he was also very charming," Jeff said. "His hair had magical powers."

"He had bad hair, though, like I said, which is because his magical powers were _bad_ magical powers."

"Exactly," he agreed. "Shortly after Prince Blaine came to Dalton, he was shopping at the Gap when one day he was approached by the evil King Jeremiah."

"Naturally, Blaine was over the moon. A handsome king was talking to him—little Prince Blainers, of all people!"

"So Prince Blaine and King Jeremiah went out on some dates. It started out with just a couple simple dates, like going out for coffee when Blaine wasn't in class and Jeremiah wasn't working—"

"_Jeff_," Nick whined, "you're ruining the fairytale illusion. People in fairytales don't have class or work, they just fall in love and get kidnapped and stuff."

"Kidnapped?" Jeff echoed.

"Totally," Nick affirmed, nodding. "Rapunzel was kidnapped by that old woman or witch or whatever."

"Oh, right," Jeff said. "And I feel like Snow White was kidnapped at some point, because you don't just magically end up with seven dwarves."

"Well, maybe," Nick said. "I mean, maybe she just had seven daddies. Like how Kurt and Blaine's babies will have two daddies."

Kurt blinked, looking down at his coffee. "Right, so, Prince Blaine," he said, pointedly ignoring their last comment.

"Okay, we'll get back to that in a second, but Kurt and Blaine's babies—think about that one for a second, Nick," Jeff said. "Will they have ridiculous eyebrows and wings?"

"They'll be the cutest!" Nick mused, grinning. "I hope they get Kurt's hair. It's _beautiful_."

Kurt frowned, suddenly hit (again) by the realization that his friends were completely insane. "You realize two men can't have a baby, right?"

"Don't say that!" Nick hissed. "Don't even say that. Kurt, we live in a day and age where some people have wings for no reason, and you're trying to tell me that it's impossible for two people very much in love can't have a baby? _Lies_."

Jeff nodded slowly. "Don't crash our dreams, Kurt. You and Blaine will have the prettiest babies and you can't tell me otherwise," he said.

"Okay," Kurt said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sure. Can you just tell me what happened with Jeremiah and Blaine?"

Nick frowned. "You know, now that I think about it, I think we maybe shouldn't tell you this story."

Kurt sighed. "Why not?"

"It's Blaine's story, obviously," Nick said. "Not ours. I don't know if they told you this, Kurtsie, but it's not nice to tell people stories that aren't yours."

"But Blaine will never tell me," Kurt argued.

"Well, it's a sad story," Nick said, "and I'm not sure if you really want to hear it."

"I want to hear it," Kurt assured him. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked."

There was a moment of silence as both Kurt and Jeff watched Nick sit with his lips pursed in consideration.

"Alright," he said finally. "We've already started the story, and we might as well finish it." He gestured for Jeff to carry on.

"Where did we leave off? Oh, right, when Prince Blaine and King Jeremiah were starting to go on dates," Jeff said. "Blaine was young and, really, a bit naïve, and this was the first time a boy had ever liked him back. Because of this, it didn't take much for Blaine to fall completely in love with him. It was all very romantic."

"No it wasn't," Nick interrupted, frowning. "It sucked."

"You're the one who was just complaining that I was ruining the fairytale," Jeff said, shrugging. "I was just trying to help."

"Well you can't _lie _to Kurt," Nick said. Looking at Kurt, he said, "As we said earlier, King Jeremiah was a terrible person and nobody ever liked him."

"Besides Blaine," Jeff put in. "Blaine liked him alright."

"Right," Nick said. "Blaine liked him. A lot. And it was the fact that Blaine liked him that led to problems for our hero."

"Prince Blaine thought that he and King Jeremiah were going to get married. He would tell the Warblers—Dalton's strong, handsome knights, as you'll recall—that if he married King Jeremiah, then he would get fifty percent off at the kingdom of the Gap."

"Dammit, Jeff, there are no discounts in fairytales!" Nick protested, glaring at his friends.

"What do you want me to say instead?" Jeff asked, frowning at the table and furrowing his brow. After a second, he brightened, and said, "Got it! The Gap would provide Prince Blaine with all the wool he wanted if he and Jeremiah got married." Looking seriously at Kurt, he said, "The kingdom of the Gap specialized in quality fabrics."

"Like socks!" Nick added enthusiastically.

"Like socks," Jeff acknowledged, nodding. "In order to further woo Jeremiah, there was a series of corny, romantic, ridiculous and, in the long run, tragic acts of love, some of which were very public and very embarrassing."

"So embarrassing, in fact, that even just remembering them still makes the Warblers shift uncomfortably in secondhand embarrassment."

"That bad?" Kurt asked.

"That bad," Nick affirmed. "This one time Blaine seriously stole a guitar—he didn't even know how to _play_ guitar—from a homeless man and started singing to Jeremiah in the middle of the, uh, town square!"

"Not to mention the time Prince Blaine led the Warbler army to, ah, fuck it, he led the Warbler army to _sing_ in Jeremiah's court. In front of all of his subjects, and then they took his throne away. In addition, apparently none of the people of the Gap knew that their assistant king was gay."

"Ouch," Kurt commented. "Did they break up then?"

Nick sighed. "If only they had, Kurtsie," he said remorsefully. "But they did not."

Jeff sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. "Nick, tell the part until the damsel in distress," he said, "I don't like this part."

"I don't like this part, either," Nick protested with a frown. He glared at Jeff for a few seconds, but when Jeff glared back at him, they both started laughing and Nick relented. Sighing, he began, "Prince Blaine, at this point, was still over the moon and he was always apologizing to Jeremiah for making a fool out of him, because, as we all know, Blaine is the most endearing person ever.

"And for a while, things seemed to be pretty good for our hero. Until one day he left a meeting with the Warblers. He arrived at Jeremiah's castle—"

"If he's not an assistant king anymore, then why does he have a castle?" Jeff asked.

"If you think you can do a better job, then you tell this part," Nick said.

"I'm not saying I can, I was just wondering," Jeff said. "And can I have a castle? I would love to have a castle."

"Jeremiah doesn't really have a castle."

"Well, that sucks," he said, then reconsidered it. "No, no it doesn't. He's an ass. Asses don't deserve castles."

"Damn straight," Nick said. Straightening his tie and looking back at Kurt, he said, "As I was saying, Blaine left his steed in Jeremiah's stable and went to enter the castle, picnic basket in hand. A prince always prepares a feast for the one he loves, Kurt, remember that."

"And now he's got his hopes up," Jeff said.

"Don't be an ass, Jeff," Nick said, frowning. "And besides, he's got the most prince-y prince to ever prince."

"I just really hate this part," Jeff fumed, glaring down at the table.

Nick sighed and said quickly, "Blaine walked in and he was super happy and then he saw Jeremiah having sex with some guy and he was heartbroken and he cried for at least a week, probably longer because this _is_ Blaine," and then grabbed his tea and took a sip, not even wincing at the taste.

Kurt would be impressed by the fact that Nick had gotten that all out in one breath, but he was too busy letting the impact of the words sink in. Blaine had been in love and then cheated on. "I'm going to puke," he said.

"Don't puke now, Kurt, because the best part is about to come," Jeff said. "Trust me."

There were very few things that were more laughable and potentially dangerous than the words "trust me" coming out of Jeff Sterling's mouth, but trust him Kurt did. "Alright, where's the good part?"

"To get to the good part, you have to skip over a bunch of sleepless nights consoling Blaine on the Warblers' parts and a generous handful heartbroken, slightly off-key songs—"

"Jeff, you said that it was going to be better," Kurt said, absentmindedly pulling on his wings to get them tighter around his body like a security blanket.

"It _does_," Jeff insists, "because you're here." He smiles gently at Kurt for a second, then brightens immensely. "By the time this fall came around, Prince Blaine was a whole new man. Or maybe he was the same as he was before Jeremiah. Either way, he was happy again."

"But one got the feeling, looking at him, that there was something he was missing," Nick added. "He just seemed a bit… lost."

The mood at the table had shifted dramatically. Nick and Jeff had brightened significantly since they had gotten out the information that Kurt needed (but, despite his declarations to the contrary, did _not_ want). Now, of course, they were going to finish out the story in a fashion typical of the pair.

"The buff, handsome knights of Dalton tried everything they could to fill that hole," Jeff said, "but no one could figure out _what_ that hole even was!"

"One cold December morning, though, as Prince Blaine relaxed back at home in Anderson Castle, a thought struck him! He knew _exactly_ what he needed, and he rose from his seat, as if compelled by a higher power!" Nick continued the story, his voice raising and sounding empowered, much like an old woman in church.

"He went to a facility and he walked down the rows, not sparing any of the pets a second look as his feet took him to the most beautiful man he had ever seen," Jeff said.

"That's not how it happened," Kurt put in, though there was no denying the grin on his face.

"Who says I'm talking about you? _Gosh,_ Kurt," Jeff said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "If you think you're so high and mighty, tell the rest of the story." He crossed his arms over his chest with an overexaggerated huff, the sort of dramatics that told Kurt that Jeff was interested to hear Kurt's take on things.

"I'm not much of a storyteller," he said, shaking his head.

Nick laughed. "And you think we are? Go on, you can do it."

Kurt sighed, his cheeks blushing. "Alright, but I'm telling you the version _I_ know," he said. "On the other side of those bars, the confessedly handsome pet had woken up that morning with a good feeling in his gut—this was the day. When Prince Blaine arrived, their eyes locked and he just _knew_. It got better and better as the days went on. Blaine was the perfect gentleman—he told Kurt he was beautiful, called him an angel… wouldn't touch his wings unless invited. He was Kurt's definition of perfect, and there was no stopping them from falling completely in love."

Standing up from the table, he smiled. "And they lived happily ever after. If you'll excuse me, Blaine is getting out of class now."

He turned to walk to the door, leaving two impressed Warblers in his wake.

Nick grabbed him by the arm. Frowning, he asked, "Is that… is that really how it happened? Did you really know, right off the bat?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "No," he confessed. "I was fucking terrified of him and everything he did. But I figured it out in the end."

With a smile, he left the room.

When Kurt got back to their room, he found the bathroom door closed with the unmistakable sound of Blaine singing under his breath floating out into the room.

Smiling, Kurt made his way over to the bed and sat down. No sooner had he gotten his shoes off than Blaine came flying out of the bathroom and threw himself over Kurt, grinning widely.

"Hi Kurt!" he said brightly.

Kurt smiled as he leaned back on the bed, surprised when Blaine followed him into a laying position. "So, how's your personal space doing?"

"Great!" Blaine replied brightly. "I filled it with_ you!_"

Kurt laughed in spite of himself, kissing Blaine's cheek. "Such a dork," he commented.

"And you _love_ it," Blaine replied, grinning. "So, how was your day?"

Kurt shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty for having gone behind Blaine's back to find out about his past. He needed to tell him. Just… not now. "Nothing special, really," he said.

"Word on the street is that Nick and Jeff joined you for coffee," Blaine said. Smirking, he added, "That had to have been fun."

"It was something, alright," Kurt agreed with a laugh.

"How was the tea?"

Kurt gaped. "So that really is a normal thing?" he asked.

"Every other week, it seems like," Blaine commented, setting his chin on Kurt's chest and looking up at him. "I've even tried it on multiple occasions. It always tastes the same to me."

"He put hot sauce in it, Blaine. _Hot sauce_."

"You sound surprised," Blaine commented.

"It's a coffee shop; they shouldn't have hot sauce there!"

"The impression I've gotten, actually, is that Nick genuinely carries it around in his pockets."

"I… okay." He reached up to run his fingers through Blaine's hair to pull it free from the gel, "How was _your_ day?"

"It was pretty good," Blaine said. "I even had a good time in Latin."

"You hate Latin," Kurt commented.

"Exactly," he replied. Propping his elbows up on Kurt's chest, he jumped up excitedly. "But you'll never guess what happened."

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and moving to pull Blaine back down (but not because he missed him being there, _no_, he wasn't that clingy, it was just that… it looked uncomfortable).

"You have to guess," Blaine replied, grinning.

"I hate guessing games," he complained, leaning up to kiss Blaine—he had learned that kissing Blaine was one of the most effective ways of getting information from him.

"No you don't," Blaine corrected, meeting Kurt's lips for a brief kiss before pulling back. "You just hate it when you _lose_." He smiled, leaning down and kissing Kurt's nose. "I'll give you a hint, though. Nick actually showed up for class today."

"Truant," Kurt commented, rolling his eyes.

"To be fair, Wes and I are the only Warblers that regularly attend Latin," Blaine said. "Mr. Macneish never takes attendance."

"So what you're saying is that you don't have to go to Latin, but you use it as a way to get away from me."

"Kurt."

"Yes?"

"Don't make me feel bad when I've done nothing wrong," he said, frowning overexaggeratedly.

The part of Kurt that had been conditioned for years to quickly and vehemently apologize whenever he did anything to upset his master immediately screamed at him to apologize and hug or kiss Blaine for good measure. The part of Kurt that was Blaine's boyfriend knew that Blaine knew he was kidding and was telling him to laugh it off and make some snarky comment.

As a compromise, he laughed and said, "I love you."

Him saying that had yet to have any reaction that was not smiling in that way that Kurt was pretty sure was only ever for _him_, staring into Kurt's eyes for a long moment (a moment during which Kurt wished he could read minds just to know what exactly Blaine was thinking), kissing him, saying it back with the biggest, stupidest grin on his face, or some combination of the above. He did _all_ of the above this time.

"Anyways," Blaine continued, nuzzling his head against Kurt's shoulder. "What happened is, Nick sat right behind Wes. And you know how Nick is really good at making fake sneezing sounds?"

Kurt _did_ know. Nick wasn't usually one to brag, but once he had perfected the art, there had been about a week during which not a conversation could go by without him pretending to sneeze.

"So, in the middle of class, Nick pretends to sneeze, and then he groans and goes, 'Oh man, that's nasty.' And he leans forward, and rubs his hand all over Wes's shoulder!"

Kurt grinned, laughing. "Oh my god, what did Wes do?"

"He freaked out!" Blaine said. "Mr. Macneish nearly kicked him out of class for it, too. I actually felt bad for him, but it was so hilarious! He was _literally_ yelling at Nick for defacing his blazer. It was the best."

"You know, Blaine," Kurt commented, "you put up a good front of being a gentleman, but really, you're evil."

"I'm not evil, though," Blaine pouted.

"Except you are."

"I am not," he replied, kissing Kurt's jaw. "If I was, then I would have had my way with you on day one and—"

"Blaine."

"Yeah?"

"We don't talk about that," Kurt said softly.

Blaine bit his lip, looking down a bit shamefully. "We don't talk about that. Right."

Kurt couldn't stand it when Blaine was upset; he looked like a kicked puppy. "It doesn't matter," he reassured him, rubbing his hand down his back.

"It's just that I always say stupid things around you," he said quietly.

"Who _doesn't_ say stupid things?" Kurt asked.

"You don't."

"I do, though."

"I've never noticed," Blaine pouted.

"I'm clever that way," Kurt replied with a grin.

"You'll have to teach me sometime."

"Of course," Kurt replied. A smirk rose on his face, and he added, "In the meantime, however, I have an idea for how to handle you saying things you regret once you've said them—even if I don't think you should regret them, because I never really do, no matter what you think."

Blaine looked up at him, grinning. "And that—"

He never finished his question and was instead rolled over with an _oomph_, his lips facing an assault by Kurt's. After a moment, he pulled away for long enough to say, "I'm sorry."

"You need to stop apologizing," Kurt mumbled, leaning back. "Especially for something that didn't happen. It makes us both uncomfortable."

"Sor—right. I love you."

"How to distract your boyfriend by saying you love him, a guide by Blaine Anderson," Kurt commented.

Blaine laughed. "Did it work?"

"No," Kurt replied, leaning down to kiss him again.

Blaine smiled into the kiss. After a moment, he pulled back. "You're lying," he said with a grin. "It _totally_ worked."

"Shut up and kiss me, jerk."

"As you wish."

It wasn't that Jeff was _trying_ to eavesdrop on Kurt and Blaine. All things considered, he wasn't even sure that he _wanted_ to know what they talked about when he wasn't listening.

Which is why, whenever he got back to his room, he would hesitate before unlocking the door, and once again stop with the door cracked. One could never be too safe, and he had learned his lesson the day he and Nick had told Kurt about what happened with Blaine and Jeremiah and he had been fully prepared to come back to a scene of comforting and possibly tears but instead had been faced with two boys getting hot and heavy in bed. Ever since, he'd been a bit more cautious. He had seen Kurt and Blaine making out three times more than he ever wanted to.

Today, though, he only heard the loud yelling of someone in an ad—it reminded Jeff of Billy Mays, who he was still quietly mourning—on the television. Most likely, they were actually watching whatever was on, since they usually would turn it off if they weren't watching; it had become a bit of an indicator.

He was about to enter the room when he heard Kurt's voice say, "We should have sex," followed by the sound of something falling to the floor, most likely from Blaine's hands.

Jeff stopped, frowning and stepping back from the door. That was _so much worse_. Couldn't he walk return to his room without walking right into the middle of his roommates' love life— or, more importantly, their sex life? Nick had been a great roommate. He never made out with anyone, except for that one time when they had made out but 1) there was not an insignificant amount of alcohol involved and 2) it, obviously, had never happened.

He leaned forward, straining to hear Blaine's quiet but clearly nervous reply.

Alright, fine. He hadn't _meant_ to eavesdrop, but now that he had heard, he was naturally a bit curious.

"…if you think that you…"

Why did Blaine have to be so soft spoken when he was embarrassed? It was just inconvenient. If Kurt thought that he _what_?

"Hey, Jeff, what are you—" Nick walked up beside him and Jeff rushed to cover his mouth. As soon as Jeff felt confident that Nick was not about to start hooting and hollering as soon as he was released, he let his best friend go. Confused, Nick whispered, "Why are you waiting outside your room with the door cracked?" Nick looked concerned, peering towards the door. "Are they doing something? Are you watching?"

"No, no," Jeff answered. "And I'm not eavesdropping."

"Okay," Nick replied. "Sure. What _are_ you doing?"

"Kurtsie has just propositioned Blaine," Jeff said.

"For what?" Nick asked innocently.

"Sex."

"Oh."

Kurt's voice drifted out of the room, getting louder as the sentence went on. "…get hard when we kiss and that's _fine_, Blaine."

Nick's eyes widened. "Kurtsie's talking about boners, we have to leave."

"But I live here," Jeff said with a frown. "I think I have a right to know."

Nick laughed, trying to keep himself quiet. "You want to know if they're doing the deed."

"They're my favorites, though," Jeff said. "I'm rooting for them."

"…to have sex?"

"And other things," Jeff whispered back. "Don't act like you don't want them to be together forever."

"True," Nick said, suddenly serious. "I want them to get married."

"Exactly," Jeff said. "It's not creepy, really, it's just… we're emotionally invested."

"Why do you say 'we'?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Because, my dear Nicholas, you didn't leave when you realized what was going on."

"But that doesn't mean I'm listening," Nick pointed out.

"But you didn't leave," Jeff repeated.

"You, on the other hand, not only didn't leave but were also listening," Nick said. "That makes you a pervert." He paused. "My best friend is a _pervert_."

"You love me, though," Jeff said. "Even though I'm a pervert."

Nick chuckled. "True," he said. "Not that it makes this socially acceptable."

"I didn't mean to, if it helps," Jeff said.

"But you didn't leave when you realized what was going on," Nick pointed out.

"Rude," Jeff said back.

"You love me, though."

"_Nick_."

They both jumped as the door swung open to reveal a blushing Blaine. "Oh! I didn't realize you guys were out here," he said.

"Oh! Yeah, well, uh, we are," Nick said awkwardly. Jeff stepped on his toe, and he hoped that Blaine didn't notice his wince. "I was leaving, though, so…"

"Just kissing goodbye?" Blaine joked.

"Oh, you know it," Jeff agreed, reaching out to squeeze Nick's shoulder. "Everyone knows Nick's the best kisser."

Nick blinked down at his shoulder, where Jeff's hand still lingered, realizing exactly what his best friend was trying to do. He was trying to distract Blaine from the fact that he'd essentially just caught them spying on him by acting suspicious. There were times when Nick realized that he knew too much about the way Jeff's mind worked. This was one of those times. "Jeff can't keep his hands off me," he explained.

"It's his shirt, I think," Jeff said. "Really soft."

Blaine frowned. "His… blazer?"

Jeff blinked. "Yeah," he said, "I think he uses really nice fabric softener or something. Its' nice."

"He likes touching me, is all, really," Nick said, knowing that Blaine was liable to reach over and try to feel him.

"You know me," Jeff said, laughing a bit overexaggeratedly (but when suspicious is what you're going for, who really needs subtlety?), "I'm a toucher!"

"You are?" Blaine asked, looking confused. He looked between the two of them for a second before taking a step back. "Well, um, so… good luck with that and I, um, I have to go."

"Go where?" Jeff asked, ignoring the warning look Nick was giving him.

"Nowhere interesting, really," Blaine said. He gave a quick wave before turning away. "Bye guys."

Once he was out of earshot, Jeff turned back to Nick. "Do you think he said yes?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Nick answered. "He left alone, and he was blushing like crazy."

"Well, Blaine and sex… I don't think he even masturbates," he said.

"He totally does," Nick replied. "Everyone does."

"I've never heard him—"

"And you totally do it while he's in the room, right?"

"Fair point, but we're getting away from the point. Are they going to have sex?"

"If you want my opinion, then yes, I think they are. If you wanted to, though, I'm sure you could ask Kurt."

"That's just weird."

"And listening outside the door and then fondling your best friend when you get caught _isn't_?"

"I was not fondling you."

"Caressing?"

"Better."

"Speaking of, are you going to let me go, or…?" Nick asked, looking at his shoulder, where Jeff's hand still rested.

"Oh, right," he said, taking his hand off. "Sorry."

"Anyways, what I came here for was to ask you if you were interested in pizza and Mario Kart down in David and Wes' room."

"Do I ever turn down pizza and Mario Kart?" Jeff asked.

"Fair point," Nick said.

"Also, we need to gossip. Maybe David and Wes can weigh in on the Kurt and Blaine Sex Scandal."

"They're in love, it's not a scandal."

"…the Kurt and Blaine Sex Situation?"

"The Kurt and Blaine Sex Situation."

* * *

><p><strong>Which brings us to another question: feelings on smut? I feel I should warn that I'm not experienced at writing it.<strong>


	6. Part Six

**Sorry it took so long to get this posted! I honestly don't know why it took me so long to write. I have midterms next week, so the next update might be a bit slow, too. :/**

**Also, huge huge huge thank you to Jackie (muchacha11) for the beautiful artwork inspired by this fic, which you can find on her blog on Tumblr. 3**

**In the reviews, someone told me that the two weeks quote was actually from Dear John. In the interest of full disclosure, I haven't seen _either_ movie, and a friend of mine had said it was from The Notebook. So, you know, mock me at will.**

* * *

><p>"No, you can't call it fucking; they'd be making sweet love!"<p>

As it turned out, they did have opinions on the Kurt and Blaine Sex Situation.

"God, Wes, now I'm thinking about Blaine _fucking_ someone. There's just… no. There is just no way," Nick said, shaking his head.

"There's a distinction?"

"There is _definitely_ a distinction."

David sighed, rubbing his temple. "Before this gets _too_ awkward and inappropriate, can we just be clinical about it? You know, since we're _clearly_ discussing this and Kurt and Blaine are our friends—"

"When you say clinical," Jeff asked, "are we going to be saying _rectum_?"

"Oh my god," Wes commented, shaking his head. He frowned up at the clock, rubbing the back of his neck. "_So_, where is that pizza guy? It's taking forever!"

"I see you over there, trying to change the subject," Jeff commented.

"I am _not_ talking about rectums."

"I'm feeling Wes on this one," Nick said.

"Thankfully not literally," Jeff put in brightly.

David sighed and mumbled, "No, Mom, my friends and I have quiet study evenings, and we never talk about our friends' sex lives, I swear."

"What is life without a little gossip, David?" Nick asked. "And they love each other, so really it was an inevitability."

"Unless Blaine said no," Jeff put in.

"He didn't say no!" Nick insisted. "Wes, David? Thoughts?"

"I don't see any reason why he would say no," David said.

Wes blinked. "Keeping in mind that David ships Kurt and Blaine harder than Kurt and Blaine do."

"Ship?" Jeff asked.

"It basically means he likes them as a couple," Wes said with a sigh.

"Oh," Nick said. "Well, we all do that."

"True," Wes conceded. "But out of all of us, David probably does most."

"You say as if you don't have a secret shrine to Kurt and Blaine in your closet," Jeff said. "I know _I_ do."

"Isn't that called Kurt and Blaine's stuff?" Nick asked.

"Hush, you," Jeff said, glancing at the clock. "No, seriously, the pizza guy should have called us down by now. He's probably lost."

"You could go down there and see if you can find him," David suggested.

"I'm not going alone," Jeff said. "It's dark outside."

"Are you afraid of the dark, Jeff?" Nick teased.

"No, it's just cold and dark and because you said that, Nick, you get to come with me."

Nick sighed and held out his arms for Jeff to help him stand up. "Boot up the Wii while we're gone," he said.

"Sure," Wes said, watching them leave.

"I'm really not sure that their relationship is a hundred percent healthy," David remarked once the door had closed.

"Jeff and Nick?" Wes asked. "No, maybe not. But they seem alright with it."

"They'll never be able to have girlfriends."

"They have each other for that, I suppose."

"Right."

The Mario Kart screen had come up and both boys sat through a few minutes of wanting to dance to the oh so catchy title screen music before Wes caved and declared that they were starting without Nick and Jeff.

They got through a grand prix and a half before they returned with the pizzas.

"Motherfucker!"

"Language, Wesley," Jeff said as he entered the room. Setting the pizzas down on the desk, he added, "You keep using that type of language and I'll take away your pizza privileges."

"Okay then, Mr. Six Auditions and Counting," Wes replied with a grin.

"Rude."

"Anyways, did you see what he did?"

"What did he do?" Nick asked, grabbing a slice of pizza and pulling a pepperoni slice off of it.

"I was in first, and I was _about_ to cross the finish line, and David over here throws a blue shell. And so neither of us won the race. Who does that?"

"David does," Nick said, "obviously."

David chuckled, leaning over to high-five Nick.

"Starting without you!" Wes announced.

"Oh right! We came here to talk about sex!" Jeff yelled, gesturing dangerously with a slice of pizza in his hand.

"Actually, I came here to play Mario Kart," Wes put in, "and I also live here, but same difference, right?"

"Exactly," Jeff said. "Mario Kart, residency, sex… it's all the same, really. So, the consensus was that Blaine agreed, right?"

"Probably," Wes said.

"See, see, even Wes admits it," Nick said. "They're in love."

"They _are_, but that connection was a jump," Wes said, glancing away from the television to give Nick an odd look.

"Speaking of jump, you just fell off of Rainbow Road," David said. "Eyes on the prize, Wes."

"But the more pressing issue here is who would be the,_ ahem_, pitcher," Jeff announced.

David snorted and in his surprise drove his kart off of the side of the road.

"Eyes on the prize, David," Wes remarked.

"Haha," he replied, sparing another glance at Jeff. "Why do you care so much?"

"I have an attachment to them," Jeff said. "I'm curious about everything that is Kurt and Blaine's relationship, including the Sex Situation."

"It's creepy."

"Well, you can say that after you've spent a few months trying to do your homework and ending up getting distracted because your roommates are cuddling and it's super cute."

"Wait, you watch them cuddle?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, but I mean, it's not like—"

"I have a thought. Who's the big spoon?"

"Kurt, usually. I think it's the wings," he said with a shrug.

"Also, Blaine's a bit shorter," Wes added.

"A bit?" Jeff snorted.

"He's not really _that_ short, Jeff," David said.

Jeff nodded. "Just keep telling yourself that," he said.

"Jeff's trying to start a Napoleon complex in Blaine or something," Nick said. "Won't work, though. Blaine's too nice."

"Anyways, you're thinking Kurt'll top, then?"

Nick shrugged. "I mean, it could happen. Physically, it might be easier. I don't know. I don't think about that, really, but I think that they're going to talk about it before it actually happens, you know?"

"Emotions over physicality, is what you're saying?"

"Definitely," Nick said. "And I can't be more specific than that. I have no idea what goes on in their heads."

"Probably a good thing, too, I mean, Blaine does have—Wes, _swerve!_" Jeff called out.

Heeding Jeff's suggestion, Wes swerved, sending him flying off the edge of the track.

"Totally fell for it!" Jeff grinned. "I did _not_ expect that."

"This race is taking _forever_," Nick whined. "I just want to play Mario Kart."

"Maybe if Wes stops _crashing_ and _falling_ all the time," Jeff said, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"No respect," Wes sighed. "Can you believe this, David?"

As the game sounded to signify that David had come in second, he nodded. "Yeah," he said, "I think I can."

Nick grinned, grabbing a Wii remote from the desk and throwing himself onto the bed next to David. "We are playing the Star Cup now. I will make Maple Treeway my bitch."

* * *

><p>Almost a week had passed since Kurt had brought up the topic of sex with Blaine, and Blaine had yet to say anything one way or the other.<p>

Whenever Kurt tried to approach the issue, Blaine would always stop him and simply say, "I have a plan." He had taken it to mean that, true to his usual style, Blaine was trying to plan it so that it would be as romantic as possible. After some thought, a cynical part of his mind was starting to worry that Blaine's 'plan' was to put it off indefinitely because he didn't want to have sex with Kurt but didn't want to say so. Realistically, he knew that Blaine would have told him if he didn't want to have sex, but still, not knowing was slowly killing him.

It wasn't a decision he had come by lightly, either. Even though Blaine might have thought that while they watched crappy daytime television it occurred to him that there was something else they could to do be close to each other or entertain themselves, but it had not. He had been thinking about it for a while, and he had finally decided that he was done acting like it wasn't something he thought about.

Obviously, it was something that he had known about for several years. Sex was an inevitability, had been and would be for as long as he had wings, and he had been graciously given the right to not only consent to it but also to choose _when_ it happened. If anyone but Blaine had chosen him, then he would not have had that option.

And, of course, he knew that Blaine would never pressure him. If he _never_ mentioned it, Blaine wouldn't, either. Blaine would _gladly_ sit around and smile in spite of his blue balls for potentially years if it meant that Kurt was happy, and he knew it. That was one of the reasons he loved Blaine: he respected Kurt, and he had from the very start.

That was what had gotten him thinking about it in the first place; he loved Blaine. He loved Blaine enough to put up with the way he stuck his foot in his mouth half the time he talked; to put up with his crazy roommate and said roommate's equally insane best friend. He loved Blaine so much that it hurt sometimes. When they kissed, he sometimes got an overwhelming feeling of how _right_ it was and how he wanted to never stop because when he kissed Blaine he felt completely and utterly safe. When they inevitably pulled away or, on occasion, stopped because one or both of them was getting too into it, he had to ask himself why. They were young and in love, so why _not_?

The words 'completely and forever' echoed in his mind. Blaine had the intention of loving him forever, and he wanted to love Blaine forever. When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start right away. Having sex sounded like a pretty good first step. There was a closeness, an intimacy to sex that was unlike any other and he couldn't imagine ever doing that with anyone but Blaine.

He wasn't sure when exactly he had made the decision that he needed to have sex with Blaine, but somewhere along the line between whispered assurances and daydreams about forever and accidental, embarrassing hard-ons during make out sessions, Kurt realized that if he didn't have sex with Blaine, he might actually die.

Kurt was stuck in quite possibly the thousandth inner monologue about why he needed to have sex with Blaine when the door opened to reveal the very same boy that had been occupying his mind more and more with each passing day.

"Blaine," he said, looking up with a grin, which fell as soon as he saw the serious look on his boyfriend's face. "Blaine?"

"Kurt," Blaine replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a million possibilities running through his head. Whatever it was that Blaine was about to say, he knew that it wasn't going to be anything good.

"I heard that Nick and Jeff told you about what happened with me and Jeremiah," he said.

A shock went down Kurt's spine. He had intended to tell Blaine that he knew; he really had. Part of him was just sort of putting it off because he knew that it wasn't great of him to go behind Blaine's back to try to find out. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Why didn't you just ask me?" he asked, a look of hurt in his eyes.

"You wouldn't have told me," Kurt said.

"Why do you think that?"

Kurt blinked, hesitating. "It… I knew that something had happened to you in the past but you never said anything to me about it, so—"

"Was it that obvious?" Blaine asked.

"What?"

"Was it that obvious that I'd had a bad experience with a guy in the past?"

Kurt sighed before answering. If he was going to be admitting his sins to Blaine, he might as well try to get it all out there. "The first day we were here, I heard Jeff say something to you about how it was good that you were happy again and—"

"So what you're saying is that you were eavesdropping?"

"Why are you so upset about this?" Kurt asked. Blaine was usually so polite; he wasn't one to interrupt anyone, even if he had something that he needed to say. He had known that Blaine wouldn't exactly react well to this, but he hadn't expected this.

"Because right now it really seems like you don't respect me," Blaine said, his voice lowering and sounding a bit defeated.

"Blaine, no, _no_… what do you mean? I love you and I respect you so much."

"Then why didn't you just ask me?"

"I didn't want to upset you!"

"So you thought that going behind my back and asking Nick and Jeff without so much as saying a word to me about it would make it better?" he asked. His voice was raised a bit now, not shouting, but definitely harsher than Kurt had ever heard it.

"I don't know," Kurt said. It took everything in his power not to pull his wings around him and possibly even take them into his hands just to pull them tighter, snugger, safer around his body. He had no idea what to do. He had always been under the impression that if he misbehaved, he would face punishment, he would learn his lesson, and it would be done and done. But that wasn't happening. "I just wanted to know."

"You just wanted to know. Okay." Blaine's voice was tired again, and he let out a long sigh. "Then ask me. Kurt, I'm never going to get upset with you for asking me a question, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt replied. He wanted to say something else, but he wasn't sure what to say.

"I love you, Kurt, you know that, right? And that I want this to work out between us in the long run? Not just now, or the next few years, but, really, honestly, for as long as we possibly can be together? Leave Ohio way behind us and run off to, like, San Francisco or something where nobody will even think twice about seeing two guys—one of them with wings, no less—walking down the street holding hands and settle down and have kids and a dog or maybe a cat because you seem like a cat person?"

"I want that too, Blaine."

"Then we need to be able to have questions about each other and _ask them_. Even if we're scared that it'll upset the other."

"I promise to always go to you first," Kurt said quickly. "I never meant to upset you, I'm so sorry."

"It's not just… you understand that goes both ways, right?"

"W- what?" Kurt asked, his brows furrowing.

"Until now, we have pretty much been on even ground concerning each other's lives before we met," Blaine explained.

Kurt blinked, opening his mouth then closing it again, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say without making Blaine upset.

"I know what you're thinking," Blaine said. "But please just bear with me for a moment." He looked at Kurt for a second, as if waiting for permission to proceed; even when he was upset with Kurt, he was still ever the gentleman. When Kurt blinked, he started, "I know about your parents and how worried you are about your dad. You know that I have a…" he paused, looking for the right word, "_strained_ relationship with my father. I know that you have been up for grabs in a godforsaken facility since you were nine. You know that I've been at Dalton for about two years since," he blinked, "since an unfortunate night at my old school."

He paused as they both flashed back to a night where Kurt had started ripping at his feathers because _the world sucked_ and _people make assumptions about me, about _us_ without knowing anything_ and _how do you handle their stares and glares?_ And Blaine had grabbed Kurt's hands to stop him and they wrapped their arms around each other and he just started talking as he stroked Kurt's face, telling him story after story. Once Kurt had asked him in a quiet voice how he could be so brave, before he knew what he was even saying, he started telling Kurt that story and how he had ran and how he wasn't brave, _Kurt_ was.

The memory of the night with whispered reassurances and stories paired with the frustration he was feeling was making Blaine tear up. "I've tried to be an open book for you, Kurt. If you ever wanted to know anything, I'd tell you. Half the time you wouldn't even have to ask, I'd just tell you. I don't know anything about you, really, aside from what you told me about your parents.

"I don't really know about anything that happened to you between then and when we met. I don't know how bad things were for you, I don't know how scared you were, and how it affected you. I don't know, so my mind fills in the blanks for me. I have nightmares, Kurt, because I know that it couldn't have been good and what would have happened if it hadn't been me? What if some other guy had come and the rest of your life had been _terrible_ and I wouldn't have even known.

"But I haven't asked, Kurt, because I know that no matter how bad it hurts for me to try to imagine it, I know that you had to live it and I don't want to have to make you relive that."

Kurt stared at him, his mouth held slightly open as he tried to process what Blaine was saying enough to respond.

"And I'm not saying that it's bad for you to want to know or ask stuff about me or my past—always ask. I just want to know, right now, that if I were to ask you, you'd tell me."

"Of course I would, Blaine," Kurt said, his voice thick with tears that Blaine hadn't fully realized were there until now.

"Alright," Blaine said, standing up. He rubbed the back of his neck as he turned away. "That's all I needed to know."

"You're leaving?" Kurt asked, his voice that same one that always made Blaine want to pull Kurt into his arms and protect him from the world. Except right now it wasn't the world that was making Kurt upset.

"I can't… I can't stay right now, Kurt, okay?" he said with a sigh. "And I… I'm not going to turn around and comfort you right now."

"Okay," Kurt said. "I don't think I really expected you to. You don't always have to."

"Except I do, Kurt, I really do. I always end up comforting you and I don't even care, because you're the love of my fucking life!"

He left the room then, already regretting some of the things he'd said but knowing he couldn't own up to it yet.

* * *

><p>Kurt was still laying on his side in bed when the door opened.<p>

"Hey, Kurt, have you seen—oh, _oh_. Is everything okay?"

He looked up to see Jeff frowning down at him. Not really caring what Jeff thought at that moment (hell, he had just walked in to see Kurt crying alone in bed, there wasn't much going downhill from there), he pouted, saying, "No. Everything is terrible."

"Should I find Blaine?" Jeff asked.

"I'm the love of Blaine's life," Kurt said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "He really loves you. But, like, should I find him for you?"

"He's mad at me," he offered. "Because I went to you and Nick instead of him about Jeremiah. He is extremely upset with me. And when he left he was still mad, and he told me I was the love of his life and that's not how something like that is supposed to come up."

"Oh," was all Jeff could think to reply.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed, sighing.

Jeff frowned. "Kurt, I like you. And I'm sure when I say that, you hear, 'You're a good boyfriend for Blaine.' But that's not what I said."

Kurt looked up at him curiously.

"And from what I gather, this is partially my fault," he said.

"It's not," Kurt said. "It was all me. You just answered my question."

"Sure," Jeff said, not at all convinced. "Obviously I can't do anything to fix what happened between you two. But mark my words, he'll come around, 'cause I'm sure you apologized—you're an apologizer, Kurt, you know that?—and Blaine is head over heels for you. But I still wanna do something for you."

"Oh?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah," he affirmed. "We're going to Wal-Mart."

"Wal-Mart?"

"Nothing heals wounds like a good trip to the Wal-Mart."

"Here," Jeff said, pulling out a shopping cart and holding it still, "get in."

"Why?" Kurt asked, looking at it. "I'm not a little kid _or_ a Wal-Mart product."

"It's super fun, though," Jeff argued. "And I want you to have fun."

"I can't," he replied.

Jeff frowned, his mouth falling slightly open. Today was going to be an exercise in how attached he had become to Kurt over the past few months and he knew it. He couldn't let Kurt know he was upset by it, though. "Are you going to be like this all day?" Jeff asked. "'Cause right now you're being a bit of a downer."

"I was perfectly fine where I was," Kurt argued.

"Oh, right. I lay in bed and sob when I'm perfectly fine, too, my bad." Jeff sighed, frowning as he looked between Kurt and the cart. Looking up at Kurt abruptly, he came to a decision and moved around the shopping cart to Kurt. "I honestly wanted to do this the easy way."

"What are you talking abo—_Jeff Sterling, put me down right now!_"

"I'm trying to help you!" Jeff said. "And this is super hard because you have wings and I don't want to crush them or anything but lifting you is hard enough but now you are struggling and this is extremely inconvenient!"

"You could just put me down."

"Friends don't let friends walk when they can ride in a shopping cart!" Jeff said.

After a bit more struggling, Kurt finally relented and got into the cart on his own.

"People are staring," he commented.

"Well," Jeff reasoned, "Nick says you're quite pretty."

"Because I can always trust Nick's judgement."

"If it helps, Nick also thinks I'm pretty."

"That definitely helps, thank you, Jeff."

They fell into a companionable silence as Jeff navigated through the aisles of the Wal-Mart, occasionally stopping to inspect something and once in the candy aisle to pick up some assorted chocolate bars.

"Okay, I give," Kurt said. "What are we doing here?"

"Shopping, I suppose," Jeff said, shrugging.

"Why?"

"Because it's what I do when I'm bored or upset," Jeff said. "And besides, Wal-Mart can be an adventure of its own."

"How?" Kurt asked, frowning. It didn't really appear to be anything special.

"Like this," Jeff said, speeding into a run down the empty aisle.

"Oh my god, we are going to crash into that DVD bin, we are _going_ to _crash_, what are you—"

Suddenly, they jerked to a halt just before reaching the aforementioned DVD bin.

"Why did you do that?" Kurt cried, looking back at Jeff, frowning.

"Because it's exhilarating!" Jeff replied brightly. "Your heart's going crazy right now, right?"

Kurt nodded.

"It's an adventure. It seemed dangerous, right? But in reality I had the situation under control."

"What if someone had come out of one of those aisles?" Kurt asked.

"We would have died."

"Cheery."

"Very."

* * *

><p>They had been at the Wal-Mart for an hour and a half and Jeff had yet to manage to even make Kurt crack a smile. He had tried everything he could think of. He had pointed out odd Wal-Mart goers, had told Kurt stories about the Warblers (though he had been cautious to avoid mentioning Blaine) and even his childhood, but nothing so far had helped. At this point, it was just becoming more and more upsetting to him to not be able to help Kurt.<p>

Kurt had requested a trip to the bathroom, and Jeff figured at this point it was the least he could do.

He pulled out his phone, figuring that if anyone could help _him_ feel better, it would be Nick.

"I feel bad, Nick, and you should, too," Jeff said in lieu of a greeting as soon as his friend answered.

"Why?" he asked, frowning.

"Kurt and Blaine had a fight because we told Kurt about Jeremiah," he explained.

"Oh, I guess that would explain why Blaine is sulking," he said, frowning. "Did they break up?"

"I don't think so… I hope not? Or, how 'bout this, I mean, usually I don't tell people they're the love of my life if I'm breaking up with them." He paused. "Wait, did you say Blaine is sulking?"

"I did," Nick affirmed. "But what's that about the love of someone's life?"

"Oh thank goodness Blaine is upset. I couldn't handle it if he wasn't a wreck right now—not that I want Blaine to hurt or anything, I just… Anyways, love of his life. Right. Apparently Blaine told Kurt he was the love of his life. Not sure where that fits in in a fight, really, but their relationship is nothing if not abnormal, eh?"

"How's Kurt doing?"

"He's been in the bathroom for ten minutes, though he's probably not pooping."

"That sucks," Nick sighed. After a moment where he was sure he heard Jeff sigh over the background noise of wherever he was, he added brightly, "But it sounds to me like they're both pretty torn up about it. Chances are they'll be back together by the end of the day."

"You think so?" Jeff asked.

"I hope so, anyways," Nick said.

"Oh, there's Kurt. Thanks for comforting me."

"No problem, man," he said. Grinning, he added, "You're the love of my life."

Jeff chuckled. "Hey now, hold your horses. We're not fighting," he said, "But yeah, see you later."

* * *

><p>Once Jeff had returned Kurt to Dalton and (after much insisting that he could leave on Kurt's part) left to go find Nick, Kurt spent the rest of the day laying in bed and waiting for Blaine to return. He didn't.<p>

By the time Blaine returned to their room the next morning, Kurt was still in bed, lying on his back with his eyes closed but facing up to the ceiling.

"Um, hi," he said nervously, looking down at the bed.

"I'm sleeping," Kurt replied.

"You can't sleep on your back," Blaine answered immediately, sitting down on the edge of the bed, reaching over and gently running his fingers over the brown feathers of Kurt's wing.

"For all you know, Blaine, I'm practicing," Kurt said. "I always seem to end up on my back with you." There was a smirk on his face that Blaine could tell he was trying to hold back.

Blaine didn't say anything for a moment, just watched Kurt breathing in and out. "Have you been here since I left?" he finally asked.

Kurt shook his head, his eyes still stubbornly closed. "Jeff took me to Wal-Mart yesterday."

"He didn't."

"He did," Kurt affirmed.

There was a long pause before Blaine said, "I'm sorry."

"Something tells me that you're not just apologizing about Jeff taking me to Wal-Mart," Kurt commented.

The only answer to Kurt's question was silence.

Kurt took a deep breath. "Are you still mad at me? Because if you are, I might actually try to sleep because I don't want to fight with you," Kurt said, his voice the same vulnerable one that before that morning Blaine hadn't heard since the first week he had spent with Kurt.

Blaine blinked. "I'm not mad at you," he said after a moment. "Didn't I just say sorry?"

"I'm sorry," Kurt said. "I really sh—"

"No," Blaine cut him off, shaking his head. "You should not have to be sorry. And besides, I repeat, didn't I _just_ say I was sorry?"

"What reason do you have to be sorry?" Kurt asked.

"I overreacted," he said.

"No you didn't," he replied. "You had a right to be upset."

"Will you look at me?" Blaine asked.

Kurt opened his eyes, looking curiously up at Blaine.

"Thank you," he said. "We're okay, right?"

Kurt's answer was immediate. "Of course we are."

"Can we cuddle?"

"Is that a question?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Blaine shrugged, smiling as he moved towards Kurt. There was one inconvenient thing to having a boyfriend with wings, he decided. Whereas other people could just turn their significant other on their side, Blaine always took special care to lift Kurt and move his wings so they didn't get tugged or pulled awkwardly.

Once they were both lying on their sides facing each other, Blaine leaned forward and pressed a quick but firm kiss to Kurt's cheek. "I really am sorry."

"I still don't understand why you're sorry when you are the wronged party."

Blaine sighed. "I just… it's hard to explain, but I just… I think I got mad at you because I was scared and I get that I shouldn't have been, but I just really love you, you know?"

"I… what?" Kurt asked, frowning. "Scared of what?"

Blaine sighed. "Upon further inspection, I realize that it was silly. But I just… I was thinking about the series of events in the past few weeks. I mean, just… I didn't know it at the time, but you had just found about the fact that I have this great big terrible love life, and then shortly after you come to me saying you want to have sex with me, it just…"

"That's not what it was about at all, baby, I swear," Kurt whispered, leaning forward and lightly nuzzling his face against Blaine's.

Blaine let out a loud exhale that was almost a laugh. "I get that now," he said. "But you get what I'm saying, right?"

Kurt nodded slowly. "I think I do," he said.

"I mean, I had just gotten past thinking that you were doing this because you feel obligated to—"

"I would never," Kurt said quickly. "I'm not a thing to be had."

Blaine smiled. "I know you're not," he said. "And I'm _so_ glad you know that, too. But, I mean, you still have these little habits, these quirks… I don't think they'll ever go away completely." He sighed. "But this morning I found out that you knew about what happened with Jeremiah, and part of me just thought _oh, that explains it_. I thought you, like, felt bad for me or something."

"You didn't actually think that, did you?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"I…"

"_Blaine_," he whispered, reaching out to hold his boyfriend's face and kiss him, mumbling against his lips between quick, fervent kisses, "I love you so much, so so much, and if we have sex you better believe me when I say it's because I love you and you love me and not because some asshole cheated on you or because some assholes said I should have sex with the guy who bought me. We are better than that. Our first time—I say first because you aren't getting rid of me anytime soon—is going to be romantic as shit."

"Sounds romantic," Blaine murmured, smiling against Kurt's lips. "Are you sure we can manage that?"

"I have faith in you," Kurt said with a laugh, moving his hand down to wrap his arm back around Blaine's waist.

"I'm not very good at romance, though," he said.

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head. "The best part is that you're serious."

"What?" Blaine asked.

"Maybe it's my admittedly very small frame of reference, but if you ask me, you're the _king_ of romance," he explained.

Blaine smirked. "Well, I'll have you know, Kurt, that this is part of my master plan. I decided I'd get someone who has no idea what romance was like and then they'd think I was amazing at romance and they'd never leave."

"Really," Kurt said.

"Definitely. And it's working, right?"

Kurt laughed. "Well, I'm definitely not leaving, though I'm not sure that it's working."

"But, see, it already did work. Because you thought I was such a smooth, romantic guy that you fell completely in love with you."

"Completely and forever," Kurt said, almost silently, pressing his face into Blaine's shoulder and saying, "I'm so glad you're not mad at me anymore."

"Me too, honey, me too."

"Don't be offended if I fall asleep," Kurt said, his voice muffled by Blaine's shoulder. "it's just that your body is one of the nicest things I've ever slept against."

"That's a huge compliment," he said with a grin.

Kurt made a noise of agreement, pulling himself tighter against Blaine. "So tired."

Blaine didn't say anything else, just absentmindedly hummed to himself as he felt Kurt's breathing slow as he fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>I tried to keep them apart longer. I couldn't. I'm admittedly terrible at angst. Sorry!<strong>

**Additionally, when I post the deleted scenes, among them will be an extended version of Kurt and Jeff's trip to the Wal-Mart and Blaine's first trip to Wal-Mart with Jeff. :)**


	7. Part Seven

**I am so so so sorry that it took this long for there to be an update! I wish I had a reason, but I actually really don't. But I hope you enjoy this update anyways and hopefully the next update will be quicker in coming!**

**Also, this _is_ the chapter in which they have sex, but it is not graphic, hence the lack of rating change. A full version of the scene might be included with deleted scenes, since it is partially written, but in the interest of time I cut it from the chapter proper.**

**Also, this would be a good time to remind you that I am addicted to making references which you may or may not get. Not a huge deal, but props if you do get them! 3**

* * *

><p>Kurt laid on the bed on his stomach, peering down at Blaine's nightstand, where the drawer was open. He had opened it that morning in search of a pen and was greeted with the sight of a pack of condoms and a bottle of lube. It was a new development.<p>

He tried to remember the last time he had looked in the drawer, hoping to at least get some idea of when it was that they had gotten there. Had Blaine bought them before their fight, or had he bought them within the past few days? He hadn't _said_ anything about it.

At the moment, Blaine was in class, so Kurt couldn't ask. He was still tempted to take Jeff's phone—he was always leaving it around the room, which Kurt had thought would be an issue until he realized that Jeff was rarely ever alone—and send a text message to Blaine to tell him to come back to the room, but that might make Blaine worry. And he wasn't going to upset his boyfriend just because he wanted to find out how recently he had purchased their supplies for sex.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Blaine actually was _definitely_ planning, just like he had said he was. After all, from the very start, he had known that Blaine was a romantic, and there was no way that he was going to have his proverbial _first time_ be anything less than perfect. He was probably planning out the entire evening down to the minute. Blaine was just _that_ sort of boyfriend.

So when Blaine finally walked through the door, Kurt literally leapt off of the bed and into Blaine's arms, landing them both on the floor. Leaning over Blaine, Kurt showered his face with kisses and announced brightly, "You are honestly the best person I have ever met and I love you."

Blaine laughed, smiling up at him. "What?"

"What you were supposed to say was that you love me back," Kurt said. "And maybe something about how wonderful I am. But, I mean, that's fine, because I know your secret."

"My secret?" Blaine asked. "I have a secret."

"You do," Kurt affirmed. "You are secretly the best boyfriend in the history of ever."

"And what did I do to receive such high praise?"

"That's the best part," Kurt said, sitting up and pulling Blaine up to face him. "I don't know yet. But," he said, his fingers making patters on Blaine's hands, "you are definitely planning something."

Blaine grinned. "I am, indeed," he said. "And you'll find out soon enough."

Kurt sighed. "You say soon enough, but I assure you that it will not be soon enough."

"Saturday," Blaine said. "Is Saturday okay for you?"

_Saturday_. It was Monday, which meant five (or six, depending on how he counted) days. "Saturday! F-for…?" Kurt trailed off, his hands coming up as if to make a gesture but then realizing that there were very few hand gestures that he could make that would get across his message and be at all appropriate.

"If that's alright with you, of course," Blaine said quickly, his face flushing red. "I don't want you to feel pressured or anything, we can wait until whenev—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, then repeated it a bit more forcefully. "_Blaine_."

Blaine snapped his jaw shut, looking nervously at him.

"Saturday is perfect."

"Great! Good, perfect," he said, looking genuinely relieved.

"Did you actually think I might say no?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"_No_," Blaine said, rubbing the back of his neck before hesitantly amending, "Maybe? It's only been a week since I freaked out on you and that's not really what I would call conducive to—"

Kurt leaned forward and kissed Blaine. "You're doing it again," he said.

"What?"

"That thing where you talk way too much when you're nervous," he said, moving to kiss Blaine's cheek then whisper in his ear, "And it's adorable, but it's kind of ridiculous. Because, you're sitting here acting nervous as if I wouldn't want to have sex with you. As if you're not the hottest person I've ever _seen_. I mean, seriously. Have you seen yourself shirtless? I would never wear shirts."

"Can I just remind you that I've never seen you shirtless?" Blaine asked.

"You _can,_" Kurt said, "but it won't help."

Blaine blinked, looking down and reaching out a hand to slip it under Kurt's shirt.

"No sir," Kurt said, grabbing his hand and pulling it back.

"Why not?" Blaine whined, entwining his fingers with Kurt's.

"Because that's _cheating_," Kurt said, grinning.

"You are just a tease," he said. "And this is mean."

"I'm just stopping you from getting ahead of yourself," he said with a grin.

"You're pretty."

"Spoilers!"

"Well I appreciate this and all, but you are—" he stopped midsentence, surging forward and crashing Kurt back into the floor.

"Assault!" Kurt said, though he was giggling.

"These are technically my clothes, I paid for them, and I can take them back any time I want," Blaine pointed out, kissing Kurt's cheek as he attempted to

"But it's like when you're reading a book, and then someone spoils the climax for you and—" He stopped short, seeming to have realized that fact that he just used the word 'climax'.

"But _Kurt_," he whined, "you have seen _me_ shirtless and it's really only fair because this is a relationship between two equals and—"

"Have I ever told you how hot it is when you try to convince me of things?" Kurt asked, looking up at Blaine with an expression on his face like the cat that got the cream.

"I just want to see your belly," Blaine argued.

"Not going to work."

"But sometimes you stretch and your belly comes out and it's really not fair," he said, pouting as he skimmed his fingers quickly down Kurt's wings, making him burst out in laughter. Kurt's legs attempted to kick out, but Blaine's body pinned them down.

"Blaine Anderson, I know you are not using my ticklishness against me," he laughed.

"I am, though," Blaine said with a grin, continuing to tickle at Kurt's feathers. "Because initially you told me that your wings didn't feel any different."

With a loud yelp, Kurt tried to flip them over, ending up hitting their bodies against the wall with a loud thud. "You are _mean!_"

"Says the boy who just ran me into the wall."

"Necessary roughness."

"You don't like sports."

"I'm trying for you."

Blaine grinned widely, pulling Kurt on top of him and catching his lips fiercely. "All jokes aside," he breathed against Kurt's lips, "you are the best boyfriend ever and I am really looking forward to Saturday."

Kurt sighed as he kissed Blaine back, not noticing the fact that his boyfriend's fingers were making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. As soon as they were all undone, Blaine flipped him back onto his back and grinned down at the newly exposed skin.

"I was right," he said, running a finger down Kurt's pale chest. "You are _beautiful_."

"I could have told you that," Kurt said, trying to pout but failing, and failing even harder at suppressing his gasp as Blaine leaned down and started pressing feather light kisses all over his torso. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of Blaine's lips and breath against his abdomen, thinking that if this felt this good, there was no way he was going to survive Saturday.

"Oh my god."

Blaine sat up quickly, face growing red. Kurt flashed back to when Blaine's father had walked in on them in a similar position and was suddenly extremely grateful for Jeff's presence. As far as people went, Jeff definitely was not the worst person to have walk in on his boyfriend practically _worshipping_ his chest.

"Dammit, guys, there will be no sex on the floor," Jeff commented, stepping over them like it was nothing and sitting down on his bed. "I shouldn't have to say that."

"We weren't—" Kurt protested, pulling his shirt closed and redoing the buttons quickly, but Jeff cut him off.

"I don't mind if you do whatever it is you do in here," he said. "Just not on the floor. I have just as much of a right to that floor as you guys do."

Blaine stood up, offering a hand to Kurt and pulling him into a standing position. Once Kurt turned to go sit down, as an afterthought, Blaine reached over and patted Kurt's wings.

"Hey!"

"Just getting some dust," Blaine said. "Jeff doesn't clean the floor well."

"That is not my responsibility," Jeff said.

"You have just as much of a right to that floor as we do," Kurt replied. Grinning as he pulled Blaine's blankets up and around him, he had a thought in the back of his mind that this was exactly what he had never dared to dream of all those years; as unconventional as it was, this was a family. His family, where interrupted intimate situations were quickly and easily brushed to the side and faded into friendly banter.

* * *

><p>The rest of the week was a blur. That was not to say that it passed by quickly, however. No, it was quite possibly the longest week of Kurt's life, which was saying something considering how many days he had spent in his lifetime doing literally nothing all day. He was even constantly doing things to pass the time: reading books, making paper stars and origami cranes, watching cheap action movies on cable.<p>

On Tuesday, Kurt spent a few hours on Blaine's computer, looking through his history for anything that might have anything to do with his plans for Saturday. Instead, for the most part, what he found was boring: school pages, email, and various mundane Google searches; the sort of thing that for a moment made Kurt wonder how frequently Blaine cleared his history.

There were a few hotel pages, though, and Kurt knew he had struck gold. This had, of course, led to a discussion in which Kurt convinced Blaine that he'd honestly rather their first time be special because of them and not because of an expensive hotel room. In the end, Blaine relented under the promise that Kurt be the one to tell Jeff he had to find somewhere to stay on Saturday night. Kurt had agreed to this with his fingers crossed.

On Wednesday, Kurt woke up late to find that Jeff was still in bed in spite of the fact that he had class. When Jeff informed him that he "would rather do anything but go to class today," he decided to make good on that and made him take him to Wal-Mart (which Jeff readily agreed to) and bought nail polish. By the time he asked what the nail polish was for, Kurt was untying Jeff's shoes and peeling off his socks and painting his toenails all the colors of the rainbow. In retaliation, Jeff painted Kurt's toenails and fingernails after he had dozed off while sleeping.

On Thursday, Kurt flipped through the channels on the TV while everyone was in class, and slowly but surely started to hate the fact that most people spent their weekdays doing things, because there was nothing on TV at all. In the end he ended up watching low budget action movies that couldn't get enough attention to be played any time _but_ in the middle of the day. He got bored quickly and at first started folding paper cranes and stars, but eventually gave up and started to reread the Hunger Games.

Friday was, quite possibly, the worst day of the week. It was so close, and yet, so far. Most of the day was spent reading, and lying in bed, counting sheep in hopes of falling asleep—he had never quite let go of that old trick parents used to make excited children sleep: "If you sleep, tomorrow will come sooner!" It was but one of many things that he hadn't let go of from his childhood.

And, of course, Blaine was _busy_. For the rest of the week, he had spent his time between classes and Warbler practices with Kurt. But on Friday, he was busy doing whatever last minute planning he had to do before Saturday. He appreciated the effort, of course, but Blaine had a way of speeding up or slowing down time at will. Eventually, though, after Kurt and Jeff had both gone to bed, Blaine returned to the room and silently slunk into bed and curled his arms around Kurt.

But finally, _finally_ it was Saturday and everything was going to be perfect.

He woke up to find Blaine already awake and watching him with a smile on his lips. He felt like it should have been creepy or at least weird, but all it did was give him a warm feeling in his belly. Still, he blushed slightly and closed his eyes self-consciously.

"Morning, beloved," Blaine murmured, leaning forward and lightly kissing Kurt's eyelid.

Kurt smiled. "You've got to stop doing that," he murmured.

"Stop doing what?"

"Calling me things like that. Dear, darling, heart, _beloved_. It's just so… I love it, and you are not allowed to stop doing it any time soon, but, I just…" he shrugged, smiling. "It's like no one ever told you what year you're living in."

Blaine laughed. "Since we're going steady, Kurt, I thought maybe you might want to wear my _pin_."

"I think that might be a bit more modern, even. Not present day, but closer."

"I wouldn't know," Blaine replied. "I just love you."

"I… okay," Kurt said. He had been prepared to make some snarky comment, but Blaine still had the ability to take the words out of his mouth simply by saying he loved him. It had yet to stop having that effect on him.

"Anyways," Blaine said, sitting up and patting the bed, "it's a bit after noon, and—"

"It's after noon?" Kurt said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"It sure is," Blaine affirmed. "I don't think you slept that well last night. Kind of like a kid on Christmas Eve."

"That's embarrassing."

"It's adorable," Blaine said, shaking his head. "Anyways, I have things planned, and you take _forever_ to get ready, so hop to it!"

"But getting out of bed and getting ready is so much _work_," Kurt whined.

"Nothing without a reward, darling," Blaine said, smirking.

"A reward? And what might _that_ be?" Kurt said, feigning innocence.

"Well, you see, I have to get dressed, too. And then later, you get to take it all off."

Kurt blushed. "Well, I guess I need to get ready then, huh?"

* * *

><p>"They are having sex. They are having sex, Nick. Sex," Jeff declared as he entered Nick's dorm room.<p>

Nick looked up from his textbook, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Blaine told me earlier that I needed to find somewhere to stay today and tonight," Jeff said.

"You're welcome to stay here," Nick said.

"That was the plan," he replied. Gesturing down at his outfit, he added, "I wore my softest sweater so you might consider cuddling with me."

Nick smiled. "Fantastic," he said.

"But anyways, the point here is, Kurt and Blaine could be having sex _right now_."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that it is mid-day and you are banished from your room until tomorrow," Nick said thoughtfully. Rolling over on his back, he said, "I mean, think about that one."

Jeff blinked, frowning. "Oh." Closing Nick's textbook and tossing it on the floor, Jeff flopped down on the bed beside him. "Though, they were leaving campus just a bit ago, so they're _probably_ not having sex right now. But, like, later. Crazy marathon sex all night."

"Gross," Nick said.

"You're the one who put the idea in my head in the first place," he pointed out.

Nick made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "I only implied."

"That might actually be worse than outright saying anything, you realize that, don't you?" Jeff asked, frowning.

Nick turned onto his side, facing Jeff. "Only because you have such an active imagination."

"The number of _times_ I've walked in on them kissing, I really don't think I need that active of an imagination," he pointed out.

"Do I hear some bitterness?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he answered. "Just saying."

"Someday, when you're in love, you'll understand."

"You say as if you're all-knowing about love, Mr. Never-had-a-girlfriend-or-boyfriend."

"Okay, first of all," Nick said, frowning, "I _have_ had a girlfriend. Who assisted me in the realization that it wasn't _girl_friends that I wanted. You know that."

Jeff nodded. "One, though. _One_."

"Don't hate," Nick said, pouting.

Jeff laughed, grinning up at the ceiling, then sitting up suddenly. "Second?"

Nick blinked. "What?"

"You said, 'first of all'. That implies a second thing," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"All I'm saying is, you don't have to have been in relationships to love."

"Is there a special boy I should know about?" Jeff asked.

Nick blushed. "_No_."

"It doesn't have to be awkward," Jeff said. "We can gossip."

"I know we can gossip."

"You'll tell me," he said. "We're best friends and we tell each other stuff like this. Besides, Nicho_lar_, you can't resist my charm for very long. No one can."

He didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes. "I really wish you would stop calling me Nicholar."

"It's still funny," Jeff said. "I mean, after the fact, I looked at the sheet the teacher was reading off of, and it _did_ look like an R instead of an S, is all I'm saying."

"It was _years_ ago," Nick pointed out.

"Two-ish years," Jeff said with a shrug. "And I still think it's funny."

"Well, you're mean."

Jeff smiled, flopping back down on the mattress. Sighing, he said, "Also, don't think I didn't notice the fact that you are still evading the question. I will get it out of you someday. But for now, I am more tired than… _shit_. I would give you an analogy, but I can't think of anything tiring. I don't know. Turtles."

"Turtles?"

"Well, like, think about turtles for a second," Jeff said, then paused.

"Okay," Nick said, "I'm thinking about turtles."

"Great," he said. "Like, they move so slowly, _all_ the time. Now imagine a turtle running a marathon."

"Like the Tortoise and the Hare?"

"No, no," he said, "that tortoise was just walking. Like a turtle does. No, I'm talking a turtle that is fucking _sprinting_. That, right there, has got to be tiring."

"So you're more tired than a turtle track star?"

"Exactly."

"Only you."

"Hey man, it makes sense and I'm tired."

"It's only, like, noonish. Or early afternoon. Why are you so tired?"

"Two reasons," he answered, "One, because a sleepy Jeff is a cute Jeff."

"Fair enough."

"Two—because when you start with one you have to say at least two—I went for a run at a park this morning. Adorable playground."

"So you're literally a turtle track star?"

"I don't even look like a turtle."

"With that sweater…"

"It isn't a turtleneck, jerk."

"You're a cute turtle," Nick said, shrugging.

"Anyways, I'm sleepy and you're warm and I'm wearing a soft-ass sweater, turtle or not. C'mere." Without waiting for a reply, Jeff curled up against Nick.

Ten minutes later, Jeff was dead asleep and snoring.

"You don't even have _any_ idea, do you?" Nick sighed.

* * *

><p>"Ugh, I hate this," Kurt said, sitting in the passenger seat of Blaine's car and reaching up to fiddle with the blindfold that Blaine had tied over his eyes.<p>

"Ah ah ah, Kurt, _spoilers_," he chided, shaking his head. "That is _cheating_."

"But it's uncomfortable," he whined. "And I'm sure it's messing up my hair."

"You look _fine_," he assured him.

"Okay, fine. Mostly I just really want to know where we're going."

"When are you going to figure out that I am never going to tell you where we're going?" Blaine asked, laughing.

"Whenever you figure out that I will never stop trying to win," Kurt said, smirking.

"Oh, no no no, sir, it will definitely not be me losing this game," he answered.

Kurt sighed, folding his hands. "Do I get a hint?"

Blaine shook his head, then realized Kurt couldn't see it (and besides, eyes on the road at all times) and said, "Nope. But I will tell you where we're_ not_ going."

"Delightful," Kurt said. "Where are we not going?"

"I thought it would be cute if I, like, took you back to go ice skating again. You know, now that we're together. I thought it would be a sort of tribute to... us? Because, if you'll recall, that was where I first told you I loved you."

Kurt blushed and turned his head downwards. "I do remember," he said softly. "And I was just so confused, because I couldn't understand how you could love me, especially in such a short amount of time."

"The heart wants what the heart wants, Kurt," Blaine said, grinning. "And sometimes it takes the heart a bit longer to realize what it wants." He reached over and grabbed Kurt's hand and squeezing it, keeping their hands folded together on top of the console.

"Do you ever wonder?" Kurt asked.

Blaine blinked. "What do you mean?"

"If... if I'd loved you back then. If I'd just gotten my head out of my ass and admitted to myself that you're practically the dictionary definition of perfect sooner and-"

"We'd still have gotten here," Blaine said, "sooner or later. And now it's a story. Not a perfect one, not your great big 'love at first sight' crap, or, well, not on your part, at least," he grinned a bit meekly here, until he realized that Kurt was still blindfolded, "but something better. Like, have you ever had to wait for something good? And then it's just so much better than it would have been if you hadn't had to wait, just because you waited?"

"Does this mean our sex will be mindblowing?"

Blaine sputtered, grateful that he was stopped at a red light and not in motion or else he would have rammed the car into that poor Volkswagen Bug. "It would have been anyways, Kurt," he said. "What was that about our first time being romantic as shit?"

Kurt sighed. "Oh, wait, I sidetracked you," he said. "You were talking about ice skating."

"Oh, right," Blaine said, nodding. "I would have done that, but the season is ending so the pond I took you to earlier probably isn't exactly safe anymore, and any man-made rink would be full of people." He didn't say anything more, but they both knew the implications of his statement. It wasn't safe for them to be out around people and acting like a couple. Outside of Dalton, the world was becoming increasingly hostile towards winged people, and were still none too friendly towards gay people.

"Oh," Kurt said, nodding. "So... wait. Wait. Wait. I got it. We are going to the playground."

"Kurt, you are actually the worst," Blaine whined.

"I'm right?"

"This doesn't mean you win," he said. "It just means that you're good at guessing."

"Sure. Anything to help your wounded ego."

"It is not wounded," Blaine argued.

"Whatever you say, baby."

"No, really! I have the best ego right now!"

"Because you're going to get laid tonight?"

Blaine didn't say anything for a moment, then said, "You can't see, but I am _blushing_."

"Why am I still wearing this if I know where we're going, anyways?" Kurt asked.

"No reason," Blaine said.

When they got to the playground, though, the noise of satisfaction Blaine made as he guided Kurt made it obvious that there _was_ a reason.

"Okay, here we are," Blaine said. "Now, keep in mind that it will be a lot more impressive when it gets dark, but I figured that it's a playground, so…" He reached up and untied the blindfold, pulling it away from Kurt's eyes.

The playground was covered in fairy lights. Any pole or surface that could possible hold fairy lights was absolutely covered with them. Some blinked on and off, and some remained steady.

"How did you _do_ this?" Kurt asked, looking around in awe.

"Well, I got most of them last night," he said, "but as for the rest, well, I called in a favor."

"It's beautiful," he said, twirling around in Blaine's arms (whacking him in the face with his wings in the process, but what did that matter?) and kissing him.

"Only fitting for the most beautiful boy in the universe," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips. "And I thought it would work, since we were decorating the Christmas tree, you know, with Christmas lights when you kissed me the first time."

"You thought of everything, didn't you?"

"I try," Blaine said.

Kurt didn't say anything, just smiled at Blaine, then nuzzled his face into Blaine's shoulder. After a moment, Blaine heard a sniffle.

"Are you crying?" Blaine asked. "Oh, honey, don't cry."

"You are just… you are too much for me," he said, turning his head and kissing the side of Blaine's neck. "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you, too," Blaine said, tilting his head to catch Kurt's lips. After a brief but tender kiss, he grinned and said, "So I don't know if you noticed this, but… playground."

Kurt grinned back at him, and just like that, they were all over the playground. They competed to see who could swing higher (Kurt, but mostly because he could beat his wings to get more air) or climb up a slide faster (Blaine, who had spent most of his free time as a child at that very same playground climbing those very same slides). They were playing tag and collapsing to the ground in tears, literally rolling on the ground laughing.

It was essentially the way he had hoped that their first trip to the playground would go. It was lighthearted, fun, and a bonding experience, which was a bit crazy, in Blaine's opinion, since they were already so close as it was. But now, months later, they were finally where he had hoped they would be, so he wasn't going to complain about it.

As the sun went down, Blaine went to his car and grabbed a picnic basket.

"Very thorough favor," Kurt commented.

"I didn't want to risk going to a restaurant or something, because restaurants always make a mess of things," he said, lifting the basket onto a platform and climbing up a tiny rock wall to get on the platform as well. "Homecoming, freshman year; went to a steakhouse with a bunch of friends. Nobody's steak came out right. Literally no one's!"

He reached down and took Kurt's hand, pulling him up.

"It's not five stars or anything, but I think eating anything fancy that Jeff made would just be dangerous, risky, and needlessly unsafe," Blaine continued, pulling a couple of sandwiches and assorted fruits out of the basket, "and like I said, I wasn't planning on taking any risks."

"Always thinking ahead," Kurt said.

"And there is no way we are having sex if you puke," he continued, barely able to contain his laughter. "That's an official rule."

"Fair enough," Kurt agreed, taking a sandwich and unwrapping it.

"Peanut butter and Nutella," Blaine said, gesturing. "Keeping it simple."

"It works," Kurt said brightly, biting into the sandwich.

They ate in silence, watching the sunset fade into the night sky, full of stars twinkling like the fairy lights that surrounded them. All kinds of poetic thoughts and phrases were flitting through Blaine's mind, but he wasn't the best with words and any time he tried to open his mouth to vocalize his thoughts, they got jumbled in his throat and he gave up.

He leaned back against a metal beam, smiling as Kurt leaned over, resting his head on his shoulder.

Eventually, Kurt turned his head and looked up at Blaine. "Thank you, for this," he said softly, "for all of this."

"Anything for you," he said, kissing Kurt's forehead. Whispering, he added, "I wasn't kidding when I said that you're the love of my life."

Kurt reached down and grabbed Blaine's hand gently. His hand was shaking ever so slightly as he asked, "I-I… should we… do you want to…?"

"Go to bed?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah," Kurt answered.

"Nervous?" Blaine asked.

"Slightly," Kurt answered, standing up. "Just… don't get me wrong, I want to do this. So badly. It's just… it's huge, you know?"

"I know what you mean," Blaine replied, standing up. Kissing Kurt's knuckles, he added, "But I know something's right when I see it. And this? This is right. There's no one I'd rather do this with than you."

"Likewise," Kurt said.

The car ride back to Dalton was quiet, composed of mostly nervous glances and smiles and squeezes of the hands. In anticipation of something big, Blaine figured, there really weren't that many things to say.

They went up to their room hand in hand, still in silence as they made their way to the bed.

"You're sure?" Blaine asked, the backs of his legs against the edge of the bed. "Just reminding you, you don't have to do this, you don't have to feel obligated for _any_ reason…"

"Shh, honey, don't ruin it," Kurt said softly. "I know exactly what I'm doing, and you do, too. I love you, Blaine, and I just want to show you how much."

They fell on the bed together and soon became a tangle of limbs and clothes and moans.

As Kurt lifted off Blaine's shirt, he kissed over Blaine's heart and whispered, "Completely and forever?"

"Completely and forever."

* * *

><p>"Okay, um… ooh, got one. Would you rather dye your hair pink, or shave all your hair off?"<p>

Jeff snorted, running a hand through his blond hair. "What kind of question is that?" he asked. "Dye it pink, obviously! I can say it's for breast cancer. The ladies love it."

"Right, because that's what all girls want," Nick said, rolling his eyes. "They want to be able to point to a group of guys and say, 'oh, ladies, do you see that guy, with the pink hair? That's my _boyfriend_.'" He put on a dreamy voice, leaning his head against Jeff's shoulders as he spoke.

"Okay, but really, nothing can make me shave my hair. _Look_ at it."

"It _is_ nice."

"Of course it is," he said. "Even Kurt approves. And he's awfully picky for someone who has only just recently met actual hair supplies."

"His hair is pretty," Nick said. "Like, I would love to pet it. Or take a nap on it."

Jeff blinked, then nodded. "I can see it. Anyways, next question! Would you rather be invisible for a day, or have the ability to stop time?"

Almost immediately, Nick answered, "Stop time."

"Why?"

"It would be so easy to mess with people. I mean, if I was invisible, I would intend to mess with people, but then I'm sure they'd know it was me somehow, or I would just chicken out—"

"No balls."

"Exactly. Besides, you said for a day for invisible but no time limit for stopping time."

"Cheap."

"You're just upset I outsmarted you," Nick said, grinning. "Okay, so, would you rather eat thirty pounds of cheese or a bucket of peanut butter?"

"How big is the bucket of peanut butter?" Jeff asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's… big?"

"I see you over there, Nick, trying to fatten me up," Jeff said, shaking his head in disapproval. "But if I had to pick one, I'd go with the peanut butter. It's _delicious_."

"You have qualities of every animal ever," Nick said.

"What animal am I now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You are a dog," Nick said. "Dogs love peanut butter. Oh god, you remember Daisy? She freaked out whenever she even smelled peanut butter. It made making a sandwich so hard because I just felt so bad. And sometimes she would get rowdy, so we'd just get a bone and put peanut butter inside it. She'd be entertained for _hours_."

He looked over at Jeff, who was sitting with his chin in his hands, watching Nick talk with an endeared but amused look on his face.

"Um, anyways," Nick said, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Next question?"

"Would you rather… have rather have freakishly large lips or a freakishly large nose?"

Nick frowned. "Neither of those sound great," he said.

"I think that's the point of 'would you rather' questions," Jeff said brightly.

"Point taken," he said. "Anyways, I guess I'd rather the nose. It's the lesser of two evils, you know? I mean, if I have to ruin my beautiful profile."

"Ah, what a profile it is," Jeff said, chuckling.

"Don't knock it," Nick said, "You love your hair, and I love my profile." He turned his head dramatically, showing Jeff his profile.

"Fantastic," Jeff said. "Next question?"

"Would you rather eat poison ivy, or a handful of bees?"

"Oh dear God, Nick, why would you _say_ something like that?" Jeff asked, slapping his hand to his chest.

"Because it's hilarious," Nick said, laughing.

"Poison ivy," Jeff said. "For obvious reasons."

The previous summer, David had insisted on all the Warblers going camping together as a team building exercise. It may have accomplished that, as well, but for the most part what happened was that Jeff discovered a bee hive and decided that he would just knock it down because he didn't see any bees in it. Countless stings and one swallowed bee later, Nick had assured him that it would later become a funny anecdote. In Jeff's opinion, that had yet to happen.

"Moving on," Jeff said primly, "would you rather make out with Mr. Orlich, or eat month old asparagus?"

"That is _disgusting_," Nick replied. "Mr. O is like, a _hundred_."

"He's still got it, though," he replied brightly. "And besides, I could have said Miss O. If he's a hundred, she's, like, a million year old."

"Fair point," he said with a sigh. "I guess I'd have to go with—"

"Three-way with the Orlichs!" Jeff exclaimed. "Think about it! Picture it!"

"Oh my god, I am going to puke," Nick said. "I need some bleach for my _mind_, goddammit, Jeff!"

"That's for the bees!"

"Worst friend ever!"

"Wait, wait, wait, speaking of sex acts," Jeff said, "Kurt and Blaine."

"Oh my god, they actually might be doing it right now," Nick replied.

"Whoa, what if they are?"

"Stop it," he said.

"You're still the one who brought it up," Jeff pointed out.

"Not _really_," Nick said. "But anyways, we are, um, watching a movie. And going to bed. Plan."

"What movie, though?" Jeff asked.

"Any movie," Nick said. "Well, on Netflix. Your pick."

"Oh, Nicholas," Jeff sighed. "You're so good to me."

"Possibly too good?"

"Possibly."

* * *

><p>Kurt nuzzled his face against Blaine's bare shoulder. "I love you so much." He was, admittedly, in a post-orgasm haze. His body was entirely relaxed, lying limply on top of Blaine.<p>

Blaine sighed happily, his breath tickling Kurt's shoulder. "I love you too, baby."

Suddenly Kurt tensed, sitting up quickly. "Blaine."

"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching up to pull Kurt back down, though his angel didn't seem eager to cooperate.

"I didn't… I mean, I didn't _hurt_ you, did I?"

Blaine sighed. "Is that what's got you worked up? Honey, calm down. You were perfect."

"A-are you sure? I got a bit carried away and—"

"Kurt, you were there, too. I think it was pretty clear that we both enjoyed it. A lot." He pulled Kurt back down beside him, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to his lips.

Kurt didn't say anything, just reached his hand down and curled their fingers together, beaming at Blaine.

Blaine leaned his face against Kurt's soft feathers, kissing his wing purely because it was there and Blaine had just decided that he would make it his mission to kiss every single centimeter of Kurt's body before he died. And he would take his time with it; he didn't have to rush. They could have all the time they wanted.

"I'm glad it was you." Kurt's voice was so quiet that Blaine barely heard it.

"I'm glad it was you, too," he replied.

Kurt shook his head. "No, I mean… this too, obviously, but… everything. I know I've said it before, but I seriously am just so damn lucky you picked me."

"There's a plan for all of us, Kurt."

"Whatever you want to believe," Kurt replied, shrugging. "Fate, God, luck… We made it. Here we are."

"Here we are," Blaine agreed, rubbing his cheek against Kurt's wing.

"I am legitimately the happiest I have ever been," Blaine admitted, leaning down and kissing Kurt's shoulder.

"Me too," Kurt replied, grinning.

Blaine smiled, adjusting his position and pulling their bare bodies flush against each other. He leaned his forehead against Kurt's temple, so close that every blink of his eyes was a butterfly kiss on Kurt's cheek.

"Thank you for the world's greatest love story," Kurt whispered.

"The universe's greatest love story, thank you," he said seriously.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "You are _such_ a _nerd_."

"No, that doesn't make me a nerd," Blaine said.

"You still are a nerd, though, and you're lucky I love—"

"Did you _know_, Kurt, that the universe has _no edge_?"

"I lost my virginity to a _nerd_," Kurt said, feigning exasperation.

"No edge!"

"Not only did I lose my virginity to a nerd, but I am still in bed cuddling with him as he goes off about the universe's lack of an edge. This day is going _horribly_."

"That would have been a lot more hurtful if you hadn't just finished saying how much you love me."

"I actually didn't say that," Kurt said.

"You implied it."

"Always do," Kurt said, turning his head to press a kiss to the tip of Blaine's nose. "Because I actually can't put how much I love you into words."

"Aw, _Kuuuuurt_." Blaine grinned, kissing him. "You don't even know how cute you are, do you?"

"I have an idea, actually," Kurt said.

"And humble to boot! I am literally the luckiest."

Kurt chuckled, rolling his eyes. "You are so lucky I love you."

"Sure am!" Blaine grinned, kissing Kurt's cheek with a loud 'mwah!'

"We should get dressed," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine quickly wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. "No, sir. We have the room entirely to ourselves until morning. We have no obligation to wear clothes."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "Duly noted."


	8. Part Eight

**I really am super _super_ sorry for how long this has taken me. It's really embarrassing. But I just had so much going on with my family and school and then writer's block... it was a mess. To make up for it, it's a long one! About twice as long as the last few chapters, I think.**

**This chapter (or, well, maybe the entire fic, actually) is dedicated to the lovely Megan (hazelgrace- -lancaster on tumblr), who puts up with my shit related to this fic, and whose birthday is today, March 31st. You should send her some love! :)**

* * *

><p>"Why do I even <em>care<em> what a hyperbola is?" Jeff asked, glaring down at his textbook.

Blaine looked up from his history notes and shrugged. "You don't, really, but they're actually pretty easy once you memorize the form—"

"But why do I need to memorize a formula for some curvy lines when I could be doing so many other things with my time?"

"You'd be done with it sooner if you didn't complain," Blaine pointed out.

"No," Jeff said, "I am going to complain. I am not going to complete any squares. I am going to make my mind heard."

"Good for you," he replied, looking back at his notes.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I'll do some algebra. I might even finish it. For you."

This resolve lasted for about five minutes.

"I actually hate algebra more than all other horrible things combined," Jeff sighed loudly, rolling over with a loud sigh. He forgot how close he was to the edge of his bed, however, and promptly landed on the floor.

Blaine glanced down at him. "Alright, pick: Nick gets shot, or you have to actually _attend_ algebra every day."

"I would pull the trigger," Jeff said without hesitation. A moment later, he sat up and said, "Oh god, why? I mean, that's just awful."

"Killing Nick?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah! That is honestly _terrible_," he said. "Like now I'm _thinking_ about it."

"Your imagination is a blessing and a curse," he replied, nodding in sympathy.

"But, like, Blaine, think about it," he said, frowning. "It's horrible."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is there something on your mind?" he asked, fighting to keep a smile off his lips. Jeff wasn't one to react so strongly to hypotheticals.

"No," Jeff said, "it's just… Well, imagine if _Kurt_ died. Like, think about how much that would hurt." He hesitated, then said, "Not that my relationship with Nick is at all comparable to yours with Kurt, because I mean obviously we're just—you're just… I'm _straight_, you know?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Okay, Jeff," he said.

"Nick's my best friend, is what I'm saying," he said.

"I know," Blaine said, looking at Jeff with a bemused expression, "You don't have to try to prove anything to me, though I'm really—"

He was cut off by the sound of a whimper coming from the bed. Blaine leaned back immediately, running his fingers through a sleeping Kurt's hair. "Hey, hey," he whispered.

"No," Kurt mumbled in his sleep, trying to turn although Blaine was lightly holding him down. "_No_, I have to… stop…"

"Baby, calm down," Blaine murmured, leaning down to whisper in Kurt's ear.

Jeff watched, unblinking, as Blaine calmed Kurt until he was once more completely relaxed against the pillow, unconsciously burrowing his face against his boyfriend's thigh.

"What was that?" Jeff asked.

Blaine shrugged. "I think…" he sighed, wringing his hands. "He's been having nightmares lately. I mean, he's always had a few nightmares, but they've been few and far between for the most part. But this is the third one this week."

Jeff frowned. He hadn't noticed anything before now. "Do you know what they're about?" he asked.

"Nope," Blaine said, shaking his head. His right hand was still absentmindedly playing with Kurt's hair. "He doesn't say anything about them when he wakes up, either. But last time, he... I'm pretty sure he was dreaming about his dad."

"Oh," Jeff said, nodding. A few seconds later, he blinked, his eyebrows raised. "_Oh_."

"Yeah," Blaine said, looking down. Quietly, he admitted, "I don't know what to do."

Jeff climbed back onto his bed, closing the offensive algebra textbook. "Well, have you talked to him about it?" he asked.

Blaine shook his head. "I don't know how to approach the issue," he said.

"Probably a good first step," Jeff said.

"He won't admit that anything's wrong, though," Blaine pointed out. "He still… have you noticed that Kurt still has some of his conditioning?"

"Hm?"

"You weren't there for the worst of it—he had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that I didn't want him to call me _master_—but it's still there, a bit. The way he's still so cautious to disagree with me or how he'll always jump to do something for me," he said, sighing. "I try to tell myself that that's just him being, you know, my _boyfriend_, but I know."

Jeff blinked, frowning at Kurt's sleeping face. "I'd never noticed," he said. "Do you think _he_ realizes?"

Blaine shrugged. "I sort of hope not, if that makes any sense," he said. "I mean, it's not like I want him to be unaware of the fact that he's still affected by what he went through in the facility, but it hurts to think that he knows and can't do anything about it and, what's worse, won't talk to me about it."

Jeff frowned, then shook his head. "I'm sure he'd tell you if—"

Blaine sighed, sounding somewhat exasperated. "That's the thing, though," he said, his eyes falling back to Kurt as his fingers traced through the feathers there. "I know he misses his dad, and worries about him. But he hasn't mentioned it since he first told me about his dad."

"Then ask him about it," he offered.

"I don't want to upset him," Blaine said. "And besides, he might not even tell me anything anyways, because he doesn't want to upset _me_."

Jeff sighed. "Well, you'll never know for sure if you don't ask," he said. "I mean, relationships are built on communication, right? Just look at me and Nick. Once again, not really the same thing, but—"

Blaine chuckled. "You're getting less and less subtle, Jeff," he commented. He turned to lay perpendicular to the bed on his stomach, his elbows on Kurt's back with his chin in his hands.

"W-what are you talking about?" he asked, frowning.

"You can't try and tell me you're not in love with Nick," he said.

"Okay, I get that we're a bit more handsy than most platoni—"

"That's not it, really, Jeff, it's just the way—"

"We don't finish each other's sentences because we're in love; it's just that if one of us knows where the other is going, it's pret—"

"Still not the point, Jeff."

"Okay, you know, just because you had sex does not mean you are, like, the Love Messiah or something," Jeff said, pouting slightly.

Blaine paused, blushed, and then started laughing. "Okay, no, that is also definitely, _definitely_ not the point," he said. "What _is_ the point is that… you realize that, even though I joke around, you are one of my best friends?"

Jeff nodded. "There _is_ a reason we decided to live together after they made me and Nick live in separate rooms," he pointed out.

"Exactly," Blaine said, gesturing to Jeff with his hand. "And best friends can tell things about each other. Including when your best friend has feelings for one of your other best friends."

Jeff sighed. "Okay, fine, maybe," he conceded. "I'm still trying to figure out what exactly this whole thing is."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always thought I was straight, you know?" he said. "And obviously Nick isn't a girl."

"Well, does that bother you?" Blaine asked, sitting up on his elbows.

"No, I… _no_. It's just… I want to be sure before I say anything. What if I just _think_ I have feelings for him because I've never had a friend quite like him before and just because _he_ is gay and it's always been a thing that _could_ happen—"

"Jeff, Jeff, _Jeff_," he said, trying to cut off the rambling blonde. "That's _fine_." After a moment, he added, "Just so you know, though, you guys would be totally cute together. I know, because you already are."

Jeff snorted. "Calm down there, O Short One," he said. "You're getting carried away there."

"Sure," Blaine said.

"I'm just going to work on this algebra, then," Jeff said, glaring at the book.

"Sounds good," Blaine agreed, humming a little as he turned his body parallel to Kurt's again.

"You should stop it with that 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' perky Blaine thing," Jeff said.

"Is that a thing?" he asked.

"It _is_," he affirmed. "I know, because we're best friends."

* * *

><p>The Warblers were seated around the lounge, some making light conversation or playing cards, but for the most part seeming to be waiting for something to happen. What exactly that something was, they weren't sure. Hopefully food, though, as every few minutes someone would loudly announce that they were hungry.<p>

"Got any sixes?" Thad asked, looking at Wes.

"Do I have a six?" Wes glanced at his cards, and shook his head. "Nope," he said, the 'p' popping. "Go—"

"Bullshit!" He reached over and pulled Wes' hand down to look at his cards, plucking a six from between his fingers.

"How did you _know_ that?" Wes asked.

"_Elementary_, my dear Weston," he said. "You—"

"Holmes never actually said that," David pointed out.

"Well, that's really great," Thad said. "But as I was saying, you repeated the question back to me. That's the mark of a lie. Also, the way you said 'nope'. It's one of your tells, Wesley."

He rolled his eyes. "You watched Lie to Me way too much," he said.

"There is no such thing as too much Lie to Me," he said, shaking his head. "Regardless, you're no Jeff when it comes to lying."

Jeff perked up from his lounging position on the couch, leaning forward between Thad and David. "Did someone say my name?"

"You were right there, I am sure you heard me," he said.

He raised his eyebrows, looking over at Nick. "Is he sassing me? I know Thad is not sassing me."

"I believe he is sassing you," Nick affirmed, shaking his head in disapproval.

"I will not stand for this, even if you did compliment my lying skills," Jeff said, standing up.

"God fucking dammit, Jeff!" Nick said, gesturing at the fact that Jeff _was_, in fact, standing.

"I told you you heard me," Thad commented.

Jeff ignored him, instead grinning at Nick, whose hands were still poised in midair. "I agree, Nick, my rear _is_ cause for cursing."

Nick blinked, clearly flustered. "I—that is— _Jeff_."

At that moment, Trent decided to have mercy on Nick and announced, "I'm hungry."

Jeff pointed at Trent. "Yes. This is good," he said.

He furrowed his brows. "Are you saying it's good that I have the potential to starve to death?" he asked, clearly working at keeping a straight face as he said it.

Jeff snorted. "We are going to a buffet," he said. "You, me, and Nick, and anyone else who wants to come?"

As he looked around the room, there were various forms of rejection. Some boys quietly shook their heads or averted their gazes, while Flint's eyes got wide and he slammed his hands down on the table. Kurt looked confused and sat up a bit, and Blaine gently set a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, mouthing, "no."

Jeff slapped his hand to his chest, scoffing indignantly. "Well, I _never_!" he said, affecting what might have been the accent of a southern Belle.

Trent stood up from the couch he was seated on, looking back when Flint tugged on his sleeve and asked, "Do you know what you're getting into?"

"We're really not that bad," Nick said. "_Trust_ us."

"I'm willing to take some risks here," Trent said.

"Atta boy!" Nick said, clapping him on the shoulder.

"If I don't come back, call, or text within three hours, call the cops," Trent said, "all of you."

"God, Trent, you make it sound like we're dangerous," Jeff said.

"We're not, really," Nick said, "I promise."

Trent sighed. "Remember when you guys almost got into a fight with a Mormon at that bar last year?"

Jeff snorted. "That was all Nick," he said.

"And no one actually got hurt in the end," Nick pointed out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Thanks to me," Trent said, looking pleased with himself.

"Yeah, see? We'd be lost without you!" Jeff said brightly.

"Sure, sure," he said, "Just take me to lunch."

* * *

><p>Stepping into the buffet, there was an undeniable aroma.<p>

"Why does it smell like vomit?" Trent asked into Nick's ear as Jeff spoke to the hostess.

He shrugged. "It always does, though," he said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

Nick nodded in affirmation.

"Why do you still go here if it always smells like this?"

"The food's good," he said, following the hostess to their table and tugging Trent along with him.

Trent sat down across from Nick and Jeff, sighing. Once the hostess had taken their drink orders and wandered off, he said, "It had better be good. Because that smell is really offputting."

"Hey, now," Jeff said, "it really only smells like that in the lobby. Seriously. Sniff."

Trent obeyed, lifting his head up like a dog to smell the air. "Huh. That is _weird_."

He nodded. "Not arguing that," he said, standing up. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. "Anyways, buffet."

Nick made an excited noise in agreement, and eagerly followed Jeff to the buffet tables

Once they all got back to the table with their food, they sat for a few minutes without conversation, the only sounds the chatter of the tables around them.

"Alright, I admit it," Trent said, "this is pretty good, all questionable aromas aside."

"_Right?_" Nick agreed through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. He swallowed, then added, "Nothing like good ole American food in _vast quantities_."

Jeff clicked his tongue. "Speaking of vast quantities, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" he asked

Nick furrowed his brow. "That woman over there? I'd just say vast, since there _is_ only one of her…"

"No, no, the poster," he said, pointing. On the wall there was a sign hanging that read, 'Homemade Rolls: $3.49 a dozen!'

"Wait, are they serious?" Nick asked. "I mean, they're good, but why?"

"I could eat twelve just sitting here," Jeff pointed out.

"And you just get them off the buffet," he said, frowning. "Without any special payment or anything."

"It's probably to go," Trent pointed out.

"Well, yeah, sure, but free if you pay to get in, and then you can get all kinds of food _plus _twelve rolls," Jeff pointed out. "And let's just say that if you were to bring in large purses, then you could just stick them in there and _wham!_ To go!"

"Or you could get to go boxes instead of putting buttery rolls into your purse," Trent said. "I feel like that would be less gross and draw less attention."

"I will carry a purse if I want to, gosh," Nick commented.

Jeff snorted. "Besides, that's not nearly sneaky enough," he said. "But maybe you could have a combination. Some people in your group bring purses, some get to go boxes… it could work."

"Four people get three rolls each," Nick suggested.

"Three get four?" Jeff proposed.

"It could work. Twelve get one?"

"No, no, too big a group. It's suspicious, and besides, there'll be too many people to share with."

"True, true. Or or or, one person gets twelve rolls!"

Jeff burst into laughter. "Good," he said, "this is the best idea yet, Nick. I think it will work!"

"Oh my God, you guys seriously are insane," Trent said, rubbing his temples.

"We are just trying to think of a better way to handle this roll situation," Nick said, shrugging.

Jeff nodded, looking pensive. "Okay, got it," he said, lifting his index finger, "we shouldn't have everyone take the same number of rolls. It's suspicious."

Nick snapped. "You're a genius! Someone could take three; someone else could take two, and so on!"

"Precisely!" Jeff said, grinning. "No one would think anything of it."

"Brilliant!" he said. "Or, alternatively, we could just stay here. You know, live here. Sleep on these booths. We could just hang out, eat all the rolls we wanted to; it'd be great."

Both Trent and Jeff commented on this idea at the same time:

"I can see it now: Excuse me, sir, we seated you here three weeks ago… you need to leave."

"I am in love with your mind."

Nick glared overdramatically at Trent. "Someone here appreciates me."

Trent sighed, standing up. "I'm just going to go get some more food and hopefully when I get back, you guys will have found some other thing to set your mind to. Maybe something less ridiculous."

When he got back, however, they had not moved on. Instead, they had a plan.

"Okay, Trent, listen," Jeff said, reaching over and grabbing Trent's hand on top of the table with both of his hands. "Remember that time you saved us? That proves something: the three of us would make a great team. And we have a plan. We're the brains, and you need to be the brawn."

Trent blinked nervously. "What exactly _is_ this plan?"

Jeff grinned. "Allow me to explain," he said. "We realized that we shouldn't have to limit ourselves to twelve rolls just because the sign says twelve. In theory, we could have as many rolls as we wanted to. So we decided to steal the _tray_."

"What? Why?" Trent asked.

"We're young and mischievous," he said. Patting Trent's hand, he added, "We are teenage boys—we're _supposed_ to do stupid stuff, and everyone seems to forget that!"

Trent seemed to consider this for a second. "What would I have to do?" he asked.

"Simple," Nick said, finally looking up from Jeff and Trent's joined hands. "Just stand by the light switch and turn it off when we send you the signal. Stand there stubbornly. That's it. We'll do the hard part."

"Is there seriously one light switch for the entire restaurant?"

Jeff nodded. "Discovered it one of the first few times we were here. The whole place is completely black if you turn it off," he elaborated. "Luckily for us, Nick and I know the layout of this place like the back of our hands. Just get to the light switch and we'll get to the table, and when we send you the signal, turn off the light. Wait about a minute, make sure no one turns the lights back on, and then book it. Simple."

He still looked a bit concerned. "What is in it for me?"

"Two things," Nick said. "One: a fun, fantastic story, two: rolls."

"So… are you in?" Jeff asked. "We really would appreciate it."

Trent sighed, then nodded. "Okay, fine," he said, though his face said that he was slightly regretting it already.

"Don't even worry," Jeff said, standing up and gesturing for Nick to follow. "We are _experts_."

"Sure," Trent said, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Let's just get this over with."

They walked up to the buffet tables as a group, as nonchalantly as is possible when one member of your party is fidgeting nervously. Once they reached the steaming rows of food, Nick pointed towards the corner. "Look right over there," he instructed, glancing askance towards where he was pointing. "There's your light switch. Get in position."

He hesitated. "You said you'd give a signal," he said, "so what's the signal?"

Jeff considered this for a second, then said, "Umm, I could—"

"I'll pretend to sneeze!" Nick said excitedly.

Jeff nodded, smiling. "And everyone says it's a useless talent."

Trent nodded and turned to get into his place as Nick said, "It isn't. It really isn't."

And so Nick and Jeff went to stand by the rolls, waiting until the middle-aged worker moved away from the counter to replace some tray of food to make their move.

"One question," Jeff said quietly, "do you want to grab it, or should I?"

"Would you do the honors?" Nick replied. "It _was_ your idea, after all. And I'll be busy sneezing."

Jeff nodded, a wide grin breaking out across his face. "Don't mind if I do." He paused, glancing around, and then whispered, "Go time?"

Nick nodded, then brought his hand up to his face and made what any casual observer would just assume was a normal sneeze, watching as Jeff's hands gravitated towards the silver tray the rolls laid on as the lights went out.

In the middle of the cacophony of panicked cries and gasps of surprise, he heard Jeff whisper again, "Go time." Just like that, they were running between tables to get out of the buffet as quickly as possible, tripping over chairs and tables and possibly people and almost definitely losing a few rolls in the process.

Nick half expected someone to chase them once they got outside and, of course, into the _light,_ but it seemed that no one had noticed amidst the chaos after Trent flicked the lights off.

In a rush to make sure they weren't caught regardless of whether or not they were being pursued, Nick threw open the back door of the car to let Jeff in. Both boys tumbled in, somehow managing to keep the rolls on the tray.

Jeff had the presence of mind to put the rolls on the floor before completely flopping across the backseat, laughing. Nick closed the car door and collapsed on top of Jeff, the blonde's heartbeat pounding like a drum from the excitement that came with stealing a bunch of rolls from a buffet.

He wasn't entirely sure how soon after they got in the car Trent arrived, but it couldn't be long.

"Did anyone notice the rolls?" Jeff asked in between gasps of laughter.

"Don't think so," Trent said. "Though I imagine they'll notice the tray missing sooner or later."

"Souvenir," Nick replied easily. "Now step on it!"

Trent obeyed, bringing the car to life and pulling out of the parking space as quickly as was safe and possible.

"Say," Trent said, "Could you pass me a roll?"

* * *

><p>"This is nice," Kurt said softly, humming against Blaine's shoulder.<p>

A few minutes earlier, Blaine had come up to their room, still in his blazer and tie but also sporting a slightly ridiculous top hat, and led Kurt down to the commons, where he had dimmed the lights, put on some music, and asked Kurt to dance.

"I'm glad you like it," Blaine said, turning his head to kiss Kurt's hair.

"Is there a reason you're doing this?" Kurt asked.

_Because I love you, and I want to be able to remember this forever._

_I want your last memories of me to be good ones._

_I wanted to say goodbye._

Instead of saying any of the things that immediately came to mind, Blaine just grinned and said, "What? I can't just do something for the boy I'm head over heels for?"

He could feel Kurt smiling into his shoulder. "Of course you can," he said, "I just thought there might have been some occasion."

_Just the beginning of the end, darling._

"Just trying to be the best boyfriend I can," he said.

Kurt chuckled. "You've already surpassed that goal," he said.

"Oh, Kurt, I'm _blushing_," he said, grinning.

Kurt lifted his head then, tightening his arms around Blaine as they moved across the floor and pressing their lips together. "I love you," he said, in that same way that he always used that sounded so casual but made Blaine's heart beat a hundred times faster.

Blaine peppered kisses over Kurt's face—starting by getting on his toes and kissing his forehead, trailing across an eyebrow and over an eyelid, at the tip of his nose, and finally landing on his mouth. "You're the greatest thing to ever happen to me, you know that?" he said.

Kurt exhaled in what was almost a laugh, his breath tickling Blaine's cheek. "That can't be true," he said.

"_Shhh,_ Kurt, don't," Blaine said, shaking his head just slightly, his nose dragging on Kurt's face, "don't ruin this. Just let me love you." _Because this is our last moment together, just us._

Kurt smiled. "Always will," he said softly in reply.

And that was all Blaine could take. He closed his eyes, feeling that familiar sting from tears, and willing them to not fall. He couldn't cry. If he cried, Kurt might cry, too, because that's just what they _did_ and he wouldn't be able to handle it.

His hands moved up and down Kurt's back as he guided them around the room in what was only slightly dancing and more like mobile hugging with a soundtrack.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, and Blaine forced himself to risk letting tears fall and opened his eyes, leaning back and looking directly into Kurt's blue-green eyes (this was probably not his greatest idea, because there was so much love and care and just a bit of worry in those eyes and how on Earth was he going to say goodbye?).

"Hm?" He didn't completely trust himself to form words.

"Is everything okay?" Kurt asked, frowning slightly.

Blaine smiled. "Of c-course I am," he said, his voice cracking slightly on the word 'course' and he just hoped that Kurt didn't notice, "why wouldn't I be?"

Kurt sighed, tensing as he searched Blaine's face. "Please don't lie to me," he said. "I… please just tell me what's bothering you."

And that was it: the dam broke and the first tears flowed down his cheeks, followed by more and he couldn't stop himself. He brought his hands up to his face, brushing away the tears. "Nothing's bothering me," he said, his voice sounding far too whiny and vulnerable and broken to be anything resembling convincing. "And I'm not crying."

Blaine's vision was blurred as Kurt's expression grew more confused and upset, tears of his own forming in his eyes. "Blaine, honey, what's wrong?" he asked, lifting a hand to Blaine's face and rubbing away tear tracks with his thumb. "Did I do something wrong? Are you okay?" As he spoke, Blaine only cried harder, as much as he tried to stop. "Baby, you need to tell me what's wrong."

"I-I can't," he said. _You can't know. You'll stop me even though it's what's best_.

"Why not?" Kurt asked.

"I just… I swear I'll tell you later if you just let it go for now," Blaine said, managing to keep his voice from shaking.

Kurt hesitated. "Promise?" he asked, leaning his forehead against Blaine's and kissing his cheek.

"I promise," he whispered in reply, tilting his head and meeting Kurt's lips with his own.

He seemed to consider this for a second, then nodded. He wiped his own eyes, and then smiled at Blaine. "Spin me?"

Blaine laughs and complies, lifting Kurt's arm and spinning him. It's awkward, since Kurt is a bit taller and his wings are even higher than his head, but it was the sort of awkward that eased tension and was easily laughed off.

He held onto the sound of Kurt's laugh, doing whatever he could to keep Kurt laughing. It would be easier to say goodbye if he just laughed a little harder and smiled a little brighter. It would be easier for Kurt to forget him if he was just something that had made him happy for a while.

As they danced—_really_ danced this time—Blaine couldn't help but watch Kurt's wings, fluttering ever so slightly as he moved. It was those wings, those beautiful, awful wings, that made everything so difficult. He didn't want to use the word "normal," but if Kurt had been… if Kurt hadn't had wings, his whole life would have been so much easier. Kurt would have never had to be apart from his father; he'd be happier.

But then, if Kurt had stayed with his father, would they have ever met?

As much as he'd like to picture a world in which he and Kurt had somehow met, probably through school or Warblers, or maybe even later on, in college, he knew it wasn't entirely realistic. He didn't know much of anything about where Kurt had come from, but chances were that, while it _was_ in Ohio (that much was confirmed on the papers that declared Kurt his property), it was probably as far from Westerville as possible.

No, chances were that he and Kurt would have lived entirely separate lives, completely unaware of the other. Kurt would have been free, and probably happy. He'd be with his family—his father, at least, but maybe his father would remarry—and he'd have friends that were _his_ friends and, most important, he'd have no idea what life was like in the facilities, and he'd have no idea what life was like when you were in love with Blaine Anderson.

Blaine laughed a little bit as Kurt spun him and told him to stop worrying about whatever it was that was going on in his head. And he did, deciding that fate or God or the Red String or whatever else (ever since he'd met Kurt, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly was ruling their lives, if anything) would have brought them together anyways.

* * *

><p>A few days had passed, full of research as Kurt slept or watched TV and erased browser history—he could <em>not<em> have Kurt find out that he planned on bringing him back to his father and wherever he had come from.

And then, just like that, he knew exactly where he had to go, and knew that if he put it off any longer, he would wimp out and not do it. About ninety miles from Dalton, there was a house and a tire shop and a man that owned both, all with a Kurt-shaped void.

Part of him had quietly hoped that he wouldn't be able to find anything. He would have looked online with the best intentions, but it was just _no use_. After all, how easy could it be to find a widower with an off-the-books son in all of Ohio?

As it turned out it was remarkably easy. He had pieced together what he knew about Kurt's old home from things he had told him over the months (_"He was great with cars. I would sit in his shop for hours, watching him work. He would even explain things to me, too.")_ to paint a fuller picture of who Kurt's father was.

From there, he had found Hummel Tire and Lube in Lima, Ohio, owned by Burt Hummel. There weren't many pictures to be found of him, but he looked enough like Kurt that he had to agree with his gut feel that this man was Kurt's father (and Blaine may have been imagining it, but he could have sworn there was a sadness in that face, the kind one got from losing both their wife and child).

The beginning of the ride was innocuous enough. He'd woken Kurt up, told him to get showered and dressed because there was somewhere they were going today. It was almost as if he was back in the beginning of their relationship, nervously waking Kurt up to go on an adventure. Book ends, he supposed.

Just like in the early days of their relationship, Kurt asked where they were going.

"Seriously, Kurt?" Blaine asked, doing his best to sound irritated in spite of the growing dread seated firmly in his belly, and, of course, the warmth and tenderness he always felt around Kurt. There was also a sort of nostalgia there, he realized, for something that had not officially ended yet.

"I will win, one of these days," Kurt said. "I swear."

"Definitely not," Blaine said. "You don't know how stubborn I am."

Kurt snorted. "I think I do," he said. "I've only lived with you for _months_."

Blaine laughed. "That doesn't mean you know me," he said.

"True, true," Kurt said, "But other things do. Like the fact that I'm in love with you, and you me. I'm pretty sure I know you inside and out." This statement was punctuated with a wink that made Blaine blush. With a slightly shy smile, he added meekly, "Which reminds me, last night was lovely."

Blaine blushed. Last night had not been the first time that Kurt had bottomed (in the time since they had crossed that boundary they had switched off multiple times), but Blaine had tried to put every little bit of his love and care into it, kissing every inch of Kurt's skin that he could. Each kiss was goodbye, farewell, arrivederci, auf wiedersehen, adios, adieu… _asante._

Kurt hadn't known, of course. He didn't know why each kiss was longer, sweeter; why each touch was soft and careful, as if he might break; why Blaine's eyes were so intent on his, watching him with admiration. It was just Blaine to him, just 'lovely'. It was good, Blaine decided, that Kurt didn't notice. Another fond memory.

Kurt sighed, kicking his feet up on the dashboard.

"If we get in a crash, you'll just snap," Blaine pointed out.

He hummed a little bit. "Shows how much I trust in your driving ability, huh?" he said.

Blaine smiled. "It's like you like me or something," he said.

"Don't get carried away," Kurt said, clicking his tongue. "Trust has nothing to do with like."

"Does it have anything to do with love?" Blaine asked, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Kurt with a grin.

"I see what you're doing over there, Anderson," Kurt said.

For a split second, Blaine's heart thudded. But then he realized that there wasn't any way that Kurt could actually know where they were going or what he was doing in the big picture: no, he was bantering, like they always do. Slipping a smooth smile back on, he said innocently, "And whatever is that?"

"You're trying to get me to profess my undying love for you _again_," he said. "And I'm not falling for it."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's _awful_," Kurt said. "I could have at least played hard to get."

"You think you didn't?"

"To be fair, pretty much as soon as I realized what I was feeling, we were together," he pointed out. "And half the time you were trying to win me over I didn't even know you, so."

Blaine sighed, and then said, "I guess I'd call that fair."

"It is," Kurt said.

"But, just so you know, if we ever break up, you are _so_ working at it to win me back," Blaine said.

Kurt held up two fingers. "Two things," he said. "One: you say that as if you could ever play hard to get. There is just no way. Two: don't even _say_ that. We are never breaking up. We love each other way too much—or _I_ love _you_ too much, at least—and I have no idea what I would do without you. I wouldn't have any idea how to handle myself."

To Blaine's credit, he didn't cry. "I love you, too," was all he could think to say.

Kurt didn't say anything in reply, just reached over and grabbed Blaine's hand and entwined them on top of the center console and turned on the radio with his free hand. He sang along to the songs he knew and verbalized to the tune of the ones he didn't. Blaine couldn't bring himself to look over, because just _hearing_ Kurt made him feel like he was falling in love with him all over again and he'd second guess himself again if he looked.

Blaine's nerves only increased as they got closer to Lima, to the point that his hands were shaking on the steering wheel when he took the exit. Once he was driving through the town, he couldn't help but sneak glances out of the corner of his eye at Kurt, trying to gauge his reactions.

He was looking around, a confused look on his face, as if someone had told him a riddle and he was working out the answer. No doubt, part of him recognized this place; how could he not? It was where he had grown up, for God's sake.

And then, finally, his eyebrows shot up, and he said, a hint of a warning in his voice. "Blaine."

Blaine took a deep breath. "Kurt."

"Blaine, this is illegal. This is very illegal."

"No, it's not," Blaine said. "Nowhere does it say that pets aren't allowed to visit their childhood homes. If it was, you'd have been sold far, far away from here. It's more… _frowned upon_. But no one has to know. I mean, I could just be taking you on a day trip that just so happens to be, purely coincidentally, where you grew up." He hadn't lied yet, really. He hadn't said that it _was_ a day trip, which it wasn't, for Kurt, at least.

"How did you even do this?" Kurt asked, staring out the windows at the buildings on the sides of the streets as they passed.

"Through a lot of research," he said. After a moment he added, "A _lot_ of research."

"But why are we here?" he asked as they pulled to a stop at a red light.

Blaine hesitated, frowning and very definitely _not_ meeting Kurt's gaze. "You… you know exactly why we're here, Kurt."

"My dad?"

"Your dad."

"But… why?" Kurt asked. "I was fine without—"

"Stop right there," Blaine said. "You were having nightmares."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, then snapped it shut again. After a moment, he asked, "How do you know that?"

"You talk in your sleep," he said. "And you said something about your dad. I knew you needed to see him, Kurt," he added, shrugging.

Kurt blinked. He grinned and brought his hand up to his mouth, pulling it away and bringing it back a few times, like he was trying to figure out what exactly to say but was too excited or flustered to form words. Finally, he asked, "Is this why you've been acting strange all week?"

Blaine's heart clenched again. "It is," he affirmed. _Still technically not lying_.

"God," Kurt said, his hand almost finding its way back to his lips. "I just… I can't believe you actually… you're so amazing. I love you so much."

Blaine smiled. Even though the fact that he knew he was going to have to part ways with Kurt was breaking his heart, it still gave him a warm feeling to see Kurt so happy, especially because of something he had done. "Anything for my best beloved," he said.

Kurt was staring out the windows excitedly, reminding Blaine somewhat of a dog on a road trip, if only he was sticking his head out the window.

An odd sense of calm washed over Blaine as he pulled into the parking lot of Hummel Tire and Lube. It wasn't going to be easy; he hadn't allowed himself to pretend it would be. Kurt's father would be pleased to see his son again; there was no doubt about that in his mind. But there was also the fact that Kurt had been abducted at the age of nine to essentially become a sex toy, and Blaine had bought him, and there was no getting around that. That sort of situation was not particularly conducive to making friends.

He turned the car off, then looked over at Kurt. "Are you ready for this?"

Kurt looked a bit nervous, then nodded and opened his car door. "This is…" he took a shaky breath. His eyes were wide as he turned to Blaine and asked, panicked, "What if he doesn't remember me?"

It was almost amusing. "Seriously, Kurt? You're his son. Now, I don't know much about being a father, or having a father, really, but I don't think that that's something you just forget."

Kurt nodded. "Of course," he said, smiling nervously. "It's just, this is huge, you know? It's like I'm meeting him for the first time, you know? I'm nervous."

"Don't be," Blaine said. "He's going to love you. He still loves you, actually. That's not really something that goes away."

Kurt smiled, reaching for Blaine's hand as they walked towards the door.

Heart beating so fast that he was sure Kurt could hear it, Blaine led them inside and looked around. "Hello?"

"Be with you in a second!" a voice called out, and Kurt visibly perked up, having recognized the voice. _This is it,_ Blaine thought, _this has to be him._

It was, indeed. The face that Blaine had seen on the computer, labeled _Burt Hummel_, appeared from behind a car, saying, "So, how can I help you—" His sentence trailed off when he caught sight of Kurt. His eyebrows raised and he blinked repeatedly, as if he couldn't believe his eyes; that he was just imagining this. "Kurt."

Blaine looked at Kurt to find that his boyfriend's eyes were swimming already, his face covered in one of those grins that you hardly had control over. "Dad," he said, his voice cracking on that single syllable, and rushed forward to hug Burt. He was quickly enveloped by his father's arms.

"You've grown so _much_."

"I've missed you so much."

"I was so worried about you."

"I'm okay, Dad. I'm okay. We're okay."

Both men were crying, and part of Blaine wanted to turn away because it felt too private. And, really, Kurt and his father seemed to only be aware of each other in that moment; it would have been all too easy for Blaine to just slip away there and there.

He was about to turn to leave when Burt pulled back from his son, murmuring a question of how Kurt had managed this, and then turned abruptly, as if suddenly realizing that Kurt had not come in alone.

Burt looked at Blaine, and just like that, it was like a switch had been flipped inside of the man. His expression grew fierce, and though Blaine had prepared himself to expect the worst, there was a difference between thinking about being in a scary situation and actually being _in_ a scary situation.

Blaine opened his mouth and then closed it again, not sure exactly what to say. There were a million things that he needed to say then, but he couldn't find the words for any of them. _"I didn't rape your son"_? That would go over well. So instead, of course, he just did his best impression of a fish.

"Did you pay for my son?" Burt asked, giving him a look that just dared him to say something inappropriate.

It was probably that look that made Blaine oddly tempted to make a comment about how technically, he had not paid for Kurt but his _father_ had, but this was neither the time nor the place. "Well, sir, yes, but—"

Suddenly Blaine found his back against the wall, with Kurt's father dangerously close and looking ready to punch him if need be. Blaine completely understood where he was coming from, but it was still a terrifying position to be in.

"Dad, please don't." Kurt attempted, but they all knew that Burt was going to interrogate Blaine regardless.

"P-please, sir, hear me out," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm not a bad guy, I swear. I understand that you probably assume the worst about me, given what you know about me right now, but I honestly truly care for Kurt and his happiness." He hesitated, then pointed out, "I brought him back to you, didn't I?"

He hesitated, weighing this. He backed down slightly, but did not fully relax. Blaine felt like he could finally breathe again, though he was still, admittedly, a bit terrified. "Now, I'm not really comfortable with asking this, but I have to," he said. "Have you forced yourself on my son?"

Blaine's cheeks flushed and he shook his head quickly. "I would never!"

Kurt stepped forward then, setting his hand on his father's shoulder. "Please stop harassing my—" There was a pause there, where Blaine could just _see_ him thinking about what he was about to say and how his father would react. After all, Blaine realized with a jolt, if Kurt explicitly stated the nature of their relationship, he would be coming out. He apparently came to the decision that it was worthwhile and said, "Boyfriend."

Burt's eyebrows raised once again, and he took a step back. He pulled out a chair, gesturing for Kurt to take a seat. "Sit right there," he said, "I'll be right back. I just need to have a conversation with…"

"Blaine, sir," he said, "Blaine Anderson."

As Blaine was led off by Burt, he cast a nervous glance but at Kurt and received a mouthed 'I love you' and apologetic look.

Burt led him to a small office, where he gestured for Blaine to take a seat.

"Now, Blaine, tell me about yourself," he said.

He shifted nervously in his seat. "Um… Like I said, my name is Blaine Anderson. I attend Dalton Academy, and I am the lead soloist for their show choir, the Warblers."

Burt nodded slowly. "And you decided to buy yourself a boyfriend?"

Blaine stuttered. "No, it's not like that at all."

"I'm just a bit confused about why you got Kurt."

He frowned. Why _had_ he gotten Kurt? Why had he wanted a pet? _Had_ he wanted a pet? There was no real reason for him to _want_ that, but part of him had. He'd never had any interest in one for their typical purposes, and it wasn't like he was hurting for friends to the extent that he would feel the need to purchase one. Maybe fate had laid a hand; God or the stars or whatever else had made the decision to throw Kurt into Blaine's path, and pushed him down that path just in case. "Honestly, sir?" he said. "I don't know either. I had no intention of forcing myself on him, and no expectation of falling in love with him."

"You love him?" he asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"Completely," Blaine said. _And forever_, he added silently. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he looked at Burt, waiting for any reaction.

"Good," he said. "Like I already told you, I don't want to have to ask this, but have you done anything with him?"

It took Blaine a moment to realize what the implication of Burt's question was. "Oh." The floor tiles suddenly became extremely interesting. "We have." When Burt didn't say anything, he added, "I swear, though, I didn't _use_ him or whatever other awful things you probably think I did—which I completely understand, sir, but… I just want you to know, he gave his full consent. It was his idea, actually. Not that you needed to know that. I am _so_ sorry." He looked back up at Burt, hoping the 'don't hurt me' wasn't too obvious on his face.

To his surprise, Burt looked a bit amused. "So, how'd you fall in love with Kurt?"

"Honest answer?" Blaine asked, biting his cheeks to keep himself from grinning. "I looked at him."

Burt's smile was almost fond. "Well, we should probably get back to him," he said. "Wouldn't want him getting too worried about you."

Blaine stood up, biting his lip. "Um, don't mention this to Kurt, but I'm… he belongs with you, you know? So I think he should stay here, with you. He doesn't know."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because… they—they mess with their heads. I mean, there were, like, eight or nine years between when he was found and when he was sold, right? They were conditioning him then, I think. He's gotten so much better since I first met him, but he still… I think that some part of him feels like he needs to stay with me because I paid for him." He looked down at his hands. "And as much as I'd like to keep him with me, I know it'd be better for him to be with his father."

Burt looked solemn for a moment, then reached out and squeezed Blaine's shoulder. "You're a good kid."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked. "I… I guess I assumed you wouldn't like me."

Burt led them out of the room, saying, "That's part of how I knew you were a good kid."

* * *

><p>Somehow, they ended up back at Burt's house, eating lunch with his wife and stepson (Carole and Finn, respectively). Blaine had not intended to stay for long, but he had also hoped to slip away when Kurt wasn't aware, so that his absence would be something noted after the fact; so that it might be less painful.<p>

The trouble was, of course, there had never been a good time.

At the moment, Finn was eyeing Kurt from across the table, more curious or nervous than anything else. He certainly wasn't hostile. Blaine realized that Finn had probably not seen anyone with wings in person, and if he had, it was most likely just in passing.

"Do you get tired?" Finn asked.

Kurt looked up from his plate. "What?"

"Like, your wings. They look super heavy," he said. "Do you ever get tired of carrying them around?"

Kurt shrugged. "I'm used to it," he said. "It's kind of like asking you if you get tired of carrying your arms around."

Finn furrowed his brow, his arms falling limply to his sides, as if he were imagining simply dropping them and carrying on with his day. "Huh," he said. "Weird." He wiggled his arms a bit, and then asked, "If you could get rid of your wings, would you?"

"Finn," Carole said, "don't be rude."

"It's fine," Kurt said, raising his hand and gesturing as if physically brushing it away. Blaine couldn't help but admire him for it; Finn didn't mean to make Kurt uncomfortable, but he was certainly making it a bit awkward. Looking at Finn, Kurt added, "No, I don't think I would. I mean, they're a part of me, you know?"

"But doesn't having them make your life hard?"

Kurt smiled meekly, and took Blaine's hand as he said, "Well, I think it worked out."

Blaine blinked nervously as the attention of the table was brought back to him; he had nearly forgotten that he was there at the table with them, and not just an onlooker or spectator. Glancing up towards Burt and Carole, he saw that neither of them looked upset or anything; that was good. There was a bit of apprehension in Carole's eyes, though, but he supposed that couldn't be helped. There weren't very many gay couples just wandering around in Ohio, especially not when one of the boys had wings, and almost never did you have such a couple sitting in your dining room.

Finn blinked, looking like he wanted to say something, but instead just went back to eating his food. He was trying, Blaine realized, but there were only so many strange, new things you could adapt to at a time.

Blaine looked back at Kurt, still holding his hand gently on the top of the table and picking at his lunch with his free hand. If he noticed the slightly awkward air, he didn't show it at all. There was still that smile on his face, like nothing could bring him down because everything was right in the world: here he was, sitting down at lunch with his father; the same man he'd been torn from at nine years old, the same man he'd been worrying about ever since.

He felt a pang in his chest then, seeing how happy Kurt looked. This was turning out about as good as he could have hoped it would, he knew, but in theory and in practice were two entirely different things. He stood up from the table slowly, saying, "If you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

Carole smiled politely and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom.

He walked in and shut the door behind himself, sitting down heavily on the toilet seat. This was the hardest part. He knew it would be, but some part of him had clung onto the hope that he wouldn't have to say goodbye. Or rather, he wouldn't have to leave Kurt behind. It would be easier if he didn't say goodbye, right?

He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't stop himself. It was getting all too real for him to handle. What if this was just a huge mistake? But Kurt looked so happy. There was no way that he could take this away from him now; that would just be cruel. He wanted Kurt to be happy.

He rubbed the tears out of his eyes and fixed his smile in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.

When he got back to the dining room, he found that Burt and Kurt were missing. He turned to Finn and asked, "Where did they go?"

Finn shrugged. "There was something that Burt needed to show him," he answered.

This was Blaine's window. "Look," he said, "it was really great to meet you, and I hope you lead a wonderful life, but—"

"What?" he asked, looking baffled.

"I need to leave," Blaine said. "It'll be easier if I do."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "Kurt needs to be with his dad more than he needs to be with his boyfriend," he elaborated. "And if I leave while he's not there, I think it'll just be a lot easier for both of us."

Finn still looked confused. "Why does it have to be a choice?"

Blaine paused for a second, and then continued towards the front door. "Just… just tell Kurt I love him, okay?"

Finn waited a second, watching him dubiously, then shrugged. "If that's the call you're making… I guess I can do that."

"Thanks."

"Are you going to come back?" Finn asked.

Blaine took a long breath before shaking his head. "He doesn't need me," he said.

"If you say so, dude," Finn said with a frown.

Blaine sighed and turned to leave. If he hesitated for much longer, he might miss his window.

As he walked out to his car, he thought on the fact that Finn seemed to question his decision. The problem was that Finn didn't understand. Blaine had only become more convinced that Kurt belonged here, in Lima, when he met Carole and Finn. Not only would Kurt have a father again, but a whole family. That was a lot more important than a boyfriend and a bunch of teenaged boys, wasn't it?

It was too late to second guess himself now, anyways. He was getting in the car, and he was going to drive away. He wasn't going to cry. It would be easier in the long run this way.

* * *

><p>"So I'm sitting there, pants down, and this old man just comes and busts open the door!"<p>

Jeff was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. "What…" he started, trailing off when he realized he couldn't speak past his laughter. After a moment, he calmed down enough to ask, "Did he say anything?"

Nick nodded. "He apologized. But it's not like he left immediately! He just… lingered."

He snorted. "I thought you were into that," he said.

"Oh yeah," Nick said, flopping back on Jeff's bed. "Because I am just _so_ into men triple my age staring at my junk while I'm on the toilet."

Jeff snorted. "When you put it that way, it sounds so much better," he said.

Nick sighed, though he was grinning. "While it _is_ funny in hindsight, this is why I don't go with Wes to his charity events often."

"They are fun, though," Jeff pointed out. "As long as you don't, you know, try to go the bathroom."

"Which is asking a lot of me," he said.

"Or you could lock the door."

"I would have if there was one."

"Door or lock?"

"Asshole," Nick said.

Jeff stuck out his tongue. "I'm just saying that you don't have the best history with locking doors."

"And you don't have the best history with knocking."

"Fair."

"_Not_ fair," Nick said. "You're not the one who continually gets walked in on while in the bathroom or, and this one's the kicker, the shower."

"I swear to God I didn't hear the shower running," he said, holding up his hands defensively.

"Right," Nick said. He sat back up, grinning at Jeff, who was sitting on the floor. "That would be so much more believable if, one: I didn't sing in the shower, and two: if I wasn't the wet dream of _countless_ old men and women alike."

Jeff leaned forward laughing, resting his forehead against Nick's knee. "You did _not_ just say that."

"I did," he said. "It's totally fine if you count yourself among them, you know I love the elderly and all—Blainers! I have a hot body, right?"

Blaine had come through the door in the middle of Nick's sentence, and was now looking at him oddly. "What?"

Jeff frowned up at Blaine, gesturing for Nick not to speak. "Hold on," he said. "Blaine's got his sad face on. Why does Blaine have his sad face on?"

Blaine blinked and smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, _Blaine_." Jeff frowned. "This is even worse than I anticipated. You're pretending not to be upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Wait," Nick said, eyes wide as he glanced around the room. "Where's Kurt? Is Kurt okay?"

Blaine took a breath, and it was a lot more shaky than he had intended it to be.

"Blaine," Jeff said quietly, getting to his feet, "What happened?"

"You know how Kurt was having nightmares?"

Jeff blinked, and then nodded.

"I found his father," Blaine said.

"So you took him back there to see him?" Jeff asked.

Blaine nodded, biting his lip. He went to sit on his bed, and Jeff immediately climbed up after him.

"So… is he still there?"

Nick looked confused. He ran a hand through his hair as he asked, "Did he… did he tell you to leave him there?"

"No," Blaine said. "He wouldn't."

"But you left him there anyways," Jeff said. It wasn't a question.

"I did," he confirmed.

"Is he staying there?"

Blaine nodded.

"Do we still get to see him?" Nick asked.

Blaine shook his head. "He'll be better off without—"

"Did you talk to him about it?" Jeff cut him off.

"I…" Blaine looked downward shamefully. He closed his eyes and took another shaky breath.

"Dammit, Blaine, are you _serious?_"

"He wouldn't have agreed to it, and he needs—"

"How do you have any idea what he needs if you didn't talk to him?"

"Jeff, he's going to cry…" Nick said quietly, trying, as always, to be a peacekeeper. The thing with Jeff, though, was that it was hard to stop him once he had begun.

Jeff stood and went across the room to his desk and opened a drawer. From the drawer he pulled out a small stack of pictures that had been taken with his old film camera. He sat down on the edge of Blaine's bed and offered them to him.

"What are…?" Blaine asked, trailing off as soon as he saw the first picture in the stack. It was a picture of him and Kurt asleep, arms around each other and holding on so tightly you'd think someone had been trying to pull them apart.

The next picture had been taken at lunch. Blaine was reaching a fork across the table to Kurt for him to eat whatever was on it.

In the next picture, they were sitting by a window. Kurt was looking out the window and up, probably at the stars in the dark sky, but he was looking at Kurt. There was a smile on his face, but not the kind that one puts on for a picture. No, he was completely unaware that he was being photographed; he was just so in love with the boy in front of him that he couldn't help but smile.

The pictures went on. Some were obviously candid shots, and others were ones they had posed for. Some included Nick or Jeff or the other Warblers, some didn't.

He looked back up at Jeff with tears in his eyes. "How did you…?"

Jeff let out a laugh. "Well," he said, "believe it or not, you two are so sickeningly in love that you develop this insane tunnel vision where you literally don't notice anything but each other." He paused, then added, "And don't think this is creepy, I have more pictures of everyone else in there, too. But I was sorting them."

Blaine smiled. "I just don't… I don't know why you showed these to me."

Nick grabbed the pictures from Blaine's hands. "I feel like it's pretty obvious," he said, "And I don't even really know what's going on."

"You two are so sickeningly in love that it's not sickening at all," Jeff said softly. "More than anyone I've ever seen. And it's like you just threw that away."

"I didn't want to, Jeff," Blaine said. "Do you honestly think that I wanted to do this?"

"You didn't have to," Jeff said. "There is… there's really no reason why you needed to do this."

"He deserved to see his father again."

"At the expense of love?"

Blaine sighed. "What's done is done, Jeff. I can't just take it back."

"You _can_."

Blaine blinked, frowning down at the pictures in Nick's hands. "Are you saying I did the wrong thing?"

"No," he said, "But you're going about it the wrong way."

Blaine leaned against Jeff's shoulder and Jeff's arms quickly went around him. It was like after Blaine had found out the truth about Jeremiah and was in need of constant comfort and reassurance. That was the thing about Blaine, though. He always gave so much for everyone else, and never expected anything in return. And as much as Jeff would have liked to yell at Blaine for being so _stupid_, he knew that that was the last thing he needed right now.

* * *

><p>Waking up the next morning was difficult.<p>

The worst thing to deal with was the fact that it took him a bit to realize why his bed felt cold, why he couldn't feel Kurt's body next to his. For a moment he had waited with his eyes closed to hear Kurt emerge from the bathroom or wherever and climb back into bed. He didn't, though, and when Blaine realized why, he pulled his knees up to his chest and bit the insides of his cheeks to keep himself from letting out a loud sob, lest he wake Jeff.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that Finn had been right. It didn't have to be a choice. Kurt didn't have to exclusively be with Blaine _or _his father. An hour and a half to two hours really wasn't much of a drive, especially not if they met halfway or had sleepovers—not that he'd ever bring up that option to Kurt's father, _no_.

But he couldn't go back now. After all, what if Kurt didn't _want_ him to come back? What if Kurt was happier without him? Maybe Kurt had just wanted to feel loved and latched onto Blaine because of that?

He knew that was wrong, though. He couldn't discount Kurt's feelings for him or try to write them off as any less than what they were. Kurt had honestly loved him, and there was no denying that, even in Blaine's moping mindset.

Part of him was afraid that Kurt would be mad at him once he realized what he'd done. Because, in hindsight, it really was a _dick_ move. Jeff was right: if nothing else, he should have talked to Kurt about it. Even if it hadn't changed his mind—which Kurt probably would have been able to do—then at least it would have all been out there. At least then they would have been honest with each other, and they would have been able to say goodbye.

Blaine reached for Kurt's pillow, grabbing it and pulling it to his chest and curling his body around it, pressing his nose down and breathing in Kurt's smell. It would be gone soon, and eventually it would be like Kurt had never even been there.

He wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

* * *

><p>Nick looked down at his phone, which had vibrated with a message from Jeff.<p>

_How can I miss someone so much who was only here for a few months?_

Jeff had been taking the loss a lot harder than anyone expected him to. Being the supportive best friend (and _just_ that, thank you, and while we're talking about it, Nick's stomach _didn't_ fill with butterflies when Jeff smiled, that would just be weird) he was, he went down to Jeff's room to see if he could help.

When he opened the door, he found Jeff sitting cross-legged on his bed, ripping up a piece of lined paper.

Nick frowned. That was how Jeff dealt with stress: he ripped up paper.

"Hey," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Jeff glanced up, smiling briefly and nodding a hello.

"How are you doing?" Nick asked.

Jeff's hands stilled for a moment. "Honestly?" he asked.

Nick nodded.

"_Terribly_," Jeff said. "I hate Blaine. I _hate_ him." He looked back down at the paper, glaring at it and continuing to shred it into tiny pieces.

"Hey," Nick said, reaching forward and grabbing both of Jeff's hands in his. Pulling the paper out and letting it fall to the mattress, he returned his hands into Jeff's with a squeeze. "You don't mean that."

"I _do_," he said. His fingers curled and his nails dug slightly into Nick's hands. "He just went and did it without telling anyone—even Kurt himself—that he was leaving him there. I mean, I'm sure Kurt's happy to be with his family, but that's not only Blaine's decision to make!"

"We don't know the full story, Kurt, he might—"

"He's not the only one that loved Kurt, you know? We all did. And, I mean, it's not like I loved him the way Blaine did, but it's still not _fair_. It's like… I mean, I _know_ he's alive and well and all that, but I never got to say goodbye. I never got to say goodbye and I might never see him again, you know?"

"Is that what this is about, Jeff? You never got to say goodbye?"

Jeff sighed. "I don't know _what_ this is about," he said. "I'm not crazy, am I? I'm not overreacting?"

"I mean… no, you're not. At all. I guess I wasn't as close to him as you were, so I'm not really sure I can understand."

"Let me…" Jeff started, frowning. His eyes narrowed in thought, then he nodded. "Got it. Have you ever watched someone sleep?"

Nick blushed slightly as he nodded in affirmation.

"There's just something undeniably, I don't know, endearing? Comforting? About watching someone sleep. I mean, when you watch someone sleep, you start to love them. You can see them as they are. There's no such thing as hiding when you're asleep, in any meaning of the word. Physically, when you're asleep, well, _shit._ Someone sleeping is completely defenseless; you have to feel at least somewhat safe to sleep. But more importantly, when you're sleeping, you can't put up any walls between yourself and the rest of the world. I think that that is why this is so hard."

"You watched Kurt sleep?"

Jeff nodded. "That's not creepy, is it?"

Nick shook his head quickly. "No," he said, "Of course it isn't."

"It's just…" he sighed. "I saw Kurt, and from the very beginning I liked him. I wanted to be friends with him, you know? And sometimes at night I'd look over, and he'd be there, and I'd wonder what he was dreaming about.

"Some nights he would smile in his sleep, or he'd curl up closer to Blaine. A lot of the time, he'd do both. It was just so honest, you know? There was no questioning it: he was happy, and he was happy with Blaine. Other nights, though, he'd just sort of shake in his sleep. I had no idea what he was dreaming about, and let's be honest, I don't think I _want_ to know what he was dreaming about, but he just looked so helpless. He was safe, you know, but not in his head. It was still scary in there. And just like that, I wanted to help him, even though he was already being helped in a huge way by Blaine.

"And now I'm just thinking about him being out there, without Blaine… Blaine didn't give him any warning. It's just like all of a sudden the boy you loved and loved you back is just _gone_. And along with him, all the friends you made, who love you, too. It's not _fair_. I keep thinking about him sleeping alone. When he had nightmares, Blaine would put an arm around him—I don't think either of them had any idea—but it calmed him down. But now, what if he has nightmares now? What if he doesn't calm down? What if he thinks that Blaine doesn't love him anymore? What if he thinks _we_ don't love him anymore?"

Nick blinked, moving forward and wrapping his arms around Jeff. "Jeff, calm down," he said.

"I can't," he replied, leaning his forehead against Nick's shoulder.

"Jeff_rey_," Nick said, rubbing his hands up and down his back. Jeff was shaking. "I get what you're saying, I just…"

"They were perfect," Jeff sniffled.

"What?"

"Kurt and Blaine," he said. He lifted his head and placed his chin on Nick's shoulder, leaning his head against his cheek. "I know that it's silly, but I sort of idolized them. And by 'sort of,' I mean a lot. And it's just like… if Blaine let that go so easily, if something so perfect broke just like _that_, what chance do the rest of us have?"

Nick grabbed Jeff's shoulders, and pulled him back so that he could look him in the eye. "Listen to me right now," he said, "You are so…" He stopped, biting his lip, and then started again. "People are people, and not everyone is the same. Not every relationship is the same. To expect that one relationship would work out because things worked out for another relationship? That's ridiculous. Trust me when I say that I know that you are going to have some amazing relationships in your life, and whether or not Kurt and Blaine worked out is _not_ going to have any bearing on that. You are going to make someone so happy, and they're going to make you happy, too, because you deserve that." An odd look crossed his face then, but it was quickly replaced by a wide smile. "Besides, you're insane if you think that they're going to stay apart for too long."

Jeff smiled. "You are literally the wisest person I have ever met," he said.

"I try," he said.

Jeff moved out of Nick's grasp, moving to lean against the wall and setting his feet on Nick's lap. "Mario Kart?" he asked, watching Nick sweep the paper scraps into his hand and tossing them into the trashcan wordlessly.

Nick grinned, standing up and grabbing the Wii controllers from on top of a dresser. "Thank God you took it from Wes' room last week," he said, "because I am _not_ walking that far."

"It's right down the hall," Jeff pointed out with a smirk.

"Exactly," he said, handing Jeff a controller. "That is just not happening."

He smirked, "When we're forty and you're fat because you're lazy and have awful eating habits, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Hey now, you don't have better eating habits than I do," Nick said, clicking his tongue.

"You ate three more rolls than me."

"You offered them. And can you really talk, Mr. Entire Sheet Cake in Less Than Half an Hour?" he laughed, climbing onto the bed and moving to sit next to Jeff at the head of the bed.

"That was once, and it was a dare."

"It was gross."

Jeff grinned, navigating through the menus on the game. "Thank you, by the way."

Nick glanced over at him. "For what?"

"For being here," he said. "For understanding. Things might have gotten ugly with Blaine if you hadn't."

"You guys are great friends, I don't—"

"I would have literally beaten him up," Jeff said. "All _great friends_ aside. It wouldn't have been good at all, especially since he's beating himself up over it as it is… albeit not literally."

Nick didn't say anything for a moment, and then said brightly, "Well, that would really be something."

The world didn't have enough people like Nick Duval.

* * *

><p>Nick had pulled off plenty of pranks before. Of course he had; you didn't just get to be best friends with Jeff without having an interest in mischief. Since they had grown so close, he had gotten even better at coming up with pranks and pulling them off without getting caught.<p>

It had started simply. They replaced Blaine's shampoo with baby oil; he'd changed the channel in the lounge during important sports events using a universal remote as he walked by; they'd set alarms for various times on clocks around Thad's room and hid them; he'd covered doorknobs with petroleum jelly.

Eventually the pranks became more involved and more ridiculous. Twice, David had woken up to find that he and his bed were nowhere near his dorm room, but instead in a random place on campus. Another time, the entire campus had been covered with hundreds of Solo cups, upside down and full of water—the second anyone tried to pick them up, the water spilled all over the floor.

Really, it was a miracle they hadn't gotten in more trouble by now than they had already.

Still, though, there was one prank, a classic, that Nick had never pulled off and wanted to. And he figured that this was a good time to pull a prank; ever since Kurt had left, everyone had been in a bit of a funk. Blaine was moping for reasons obvious to everyone; and Jeff was moping because he'd lost one of his best friends and another was mourning that loss, and Jeff himself was upset that the relationship he'd had so much faith in had fallen apart so easily. Without the two of their usually extremely positive and fun people, the Warblers were all feeling a bit down.

(Or at least that was what he would say if anyone asked. If he were being completely honest, though, he really just wanted to see Jeff smile again, not that he'd say so.)

It was a relatively simple prank, really. Once he had found somewhere he could rent five pigs for an afternoon and bought a can of spray paint, it had all been smooth sailing.

Getting the pigs was relatively easy. At first, the owner was dubious about letting a teenager borrow them, but once Nick had told him what he was planning and promised him payment immediately and the safe return of the pigs, he had agreed to help.

Which was how there were currently five pigs running around Dalton's campus, labeled _1, 2, 3, 5_, and _6_. It was one of the oldest pranks in the book, and most likely the administrators would know what he was doing, but there was a chance that they didn't.

Either way, things were going well. The pigs were already causing a state of minor chaos because, _hello_, pigs on campus! Prep school boys in blazers and ties weren't really sure how to handle something like that.

No doubt, Jeff had heard about them and was probably being interrogated by Wes to find out if he had any involvement, but still, Nick fired off a text message: _Are you seeing this madness? ;)_

Almost immediately, he received a reply: _Does that face mean you're behind this?_

Before he could send anything back to Jeff, the blonde appeared behind him, carrying the smallest of the pigs, labeled _1_. "I think he likes me!" he said excitedly.

"I think he does, too," Nick said, grinning widely as Jeff set the pig down.

"_Damn_, you are heavy, though," he groaned, patting its back. "Go run off and have fun. Preferably, make a mess and scare some people. Excelsior!"

"Excelsior? Really?" Nick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You love it," Jeff said, chuckling as he saw _5_ following a boy who was walking backwards away from the pig and looking very concerned. "So, why didn't you tell me you were planning this? I would have helped.

Nick grinned. "I wanted it to be a surprise, you know?"

"A surprise?" Jeff asked, the corners of his lips curling upwards.

"Yeah," Nick said with a nod. He looked down at his hands for a moment, biting his lip before blurting, "You've just been so down this week, you know? I wanted to do something to cheer you up."

"Me?"

"You," Nick affirmed. Blushing, he added, "I mean, for everyone else, too, but, like, I—"

Jeff blinked at Nick, a grin spreading across his face, the sort of grin you get when you're about to do something potentially catastrophic and reckless if you're wrong but you have a feeling you're right. Before he could second guess himself again, he leaned forward, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips met Nick's.

Nick took a moment to react, his eyes widening as he realized that Jeff was _right there_ and he was _kissing him_.

Jeff took his lack of a reaction as a rejection, and pulled back, saying quickly, "I am so sorry, I shouldn't have just as—"

"No, no, no," Nick mumbled, reaching for Jeff's lapel to bring him back to have their lips meet again.

Nick couldn't stop himself from smiling into the kiss, because this was finally happening—though he shouldn't say finally, since he had never thought it _would_ happen—and all it had taken was five pigs. It was good to know.

When they parted, they both just grinned at each other for a minute or two.

Finally, Jeff laughed, that sort of laugh where you were so happy that even though nothing was funny you _had_ to laugh just so you wouldn't explode from the excess happiness, and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Nick replied, laughing in kind.

Jeff moved his hand downwards, almost cautiously, entwining their fingers and looking at Nick as if to ask if it was okay. When Nick nodded encouragingly, he smiled and said, "I feel like I should ask if this means that we're boyfriends, because, I mean, I want that for us but I totally understand if you don't and I'll respect that—"

Nick leaned over and kissed Jeff again (because he could now), and said, "Don't be ridiculous, Jeff. Of course I want that. I haven't pined over you since freshman year just to throw away my chance with you."

Jeff blinked, and Nick could have sworn he blushed. "Freshman year?"

"Come on, Jeff, I believe we have to go do some heroism and wrangle some pigs."

Jeff snorted, swinging their joined hands as he followed Nick, asking, "Do you know how to do a pig call?"


	9. Part Nine

**This has been yet another inexcusably long gap between updates. I want to apologize for that, and I am saying now that in the best possible scenario, the next chapter will be out next weekend. If not, I'm shooting for the week after that. So sorry!**

**Also, we are close to the end. As in, there will be ten chapters, plus an epilogue. That's it! Then I'll finally get back to working on my travel fic, The Pursuit of Adventure.**

**One last note: this chapter, for the most part, takes place at two different times concurrently. The parts in Lima pick up after Blaine's departure, and the parts at Dalton pick up where the last chapter left off. :)**

* * *

><p>Gathering the pigs, as it turned out, was far more difficult than they had anticipated.<p>

The thing about the pigs was that they rather enjoyed having their freedom, especially in a place they had never been before. There was just so much to _explore_.

The only pig that they found easily was _1_, who was apparently fond of Jeff. Jeff, in turn, was fond of him. So fond, in fact, that he found a wagon somewhere (Nick really wasn't going to ask; half the time it was just easier to assume that Jeff was magical) and was wheeling him around in it.

"We should keep him," he said.

Nick rolled his eyes, smiling. "We can't."

"Why the fuck not?" Jeff asked, then gasped, bringing his hands (and, by extension, one of Nick's hands) up to his mouth. "I am so sorry, little piggy, I did not mean to use such _language_ around you."

The pig just looked up at Jeff curiously.

"We should name him," Jeff said, looking hopefully at Nick.

"We have to give him back," he pointed out.

"For _now_, he's ours," Jeff said. "Don't take that away from me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Nick said, trying and failing to look irritated with Jeff. Really, there wasn't much of _anything_ that could bother him right now, and if anything could, it would certainly not be his _boyfriend_.

As Jeff carried on walking, looking around for any signs of the missing pigs, he looked over at Nick with a smile. "What do you think we should name him?" he asked. "And don't say we shouldn't name him, because the answer to that is we _should_.

Nick glanced back at the pig, then laughing.

"What?"

"Bacon," Nick said.

"No!" he cried quickly. "That's an awful name, Nick. We _love_ our piggy."

"We have to give him back…" Nick pointed out gently.

"Okay, no," Jeff said, "I was thinking about this. We can _totally_ keep a pet in our dorms. Think about it. The Warblers are _constantly_ putting birds into the care of new members. It's not like that's any secret. And most people would regard Kurt as a pet, right? And Blaine kept him in our room without hearing any fuss from anyone about it for, what? _Months?_ So I don't see why we can't keep a pig."

"If you're trying to replace Kurt, there's really—"

"No, that's gross," he said. "But I really do think that it would be great to have a cute-ass little pig running around. It would make our lives like a sitcom."

Nick snorted. "Are you actually trying to tell me that you don't think our lives are enough like a sitcom as it is?"

Jeff considered this for a second. "I feel like, at the moment, we're a sitcom in its later seasons. People have grown attached to all of us as characters and love our personalities and whatnot, so the writers are now willing to put us through pain, because they know that the audience will continue watching to root for us through our struggles."

Nick sighed. Jeff was good with metaphors.

"And if this was a sitcom, there would be a lot of conflicting opinions about the two of us getting together. Loads of people would love it. I mean, come on; we're adorable. Others would say that it's a sign of the show jumping the shark."

Before he could stop himself, Nick blurted, "It's not, though. Things are only going to go up from here!" Jeff was _not not not_ allowed to have second thoughts about this. He just wasn't, that wasn't _fair_.

"Well, you and I know that," Jeff said. "Nothing's going to change now that we're together." He stopped and frowned, then shook his head and added, "Actually, a few things are going to change."

Nick blinked. "Oh?"

"Yes sir," Jeff affirmed, grinning. Stopping in his tracks, he grinned and leaned forward and took Nick's face in his hands. "We get to do _this_," he said, kissing Nick and feeling his slight frown turn into a smile, "which I _think_ is a change. Unless you've gone all somnophilia on me without saying anything."

Nick snorted, shaking his head, still in Jeff's hands. "You were the one talking about watching someone sleep earlier this week," he pointed out.

"I was extremely emotionally volatile," Jeff pointed out. "And not once did I tell you that I watched Kurt sleep and got all hot and bothered."

"Hm," Nick said, "I guess I got something really different from that speech."

Jeff huffed. "Never mind," he said, taking a step back from him. "I take it back. You're an awful boyfriend and you are finding these pigs all by your lonesome. And I'm keeping this one."

"Awww, _Jeff,_" Nick whined, "don't go. I _need_ you."

"You're lucky you're handsome," Jeff said with a pout, crossing one arm over his chest (the other was holding _1_'s wagon handle, and the overall effect of crossing one's arms was lost). "Because you sure as hell aren't nice."

"I am so much nicer than you are," Nick said. "But whatever." He leaned over and kissed Jeff's cheek.

"Nick! Jeff!"

The pair jumped apart as if caught with their hands in the cookie jar and turned to see a visibly displeased Wes barreling towards them.

"How _are_ you doing today, Wesley?" Jeff asked brightly.

"Just wonderful," Wes said, "really. I mean, it's honestly really _great_ that campus is crawling with pigs."

"I would hardly say it's _crawling_ with pigs," Nick said. "I mean, there's only a few on the loose."

"A few being at _least _six."

Nick and Jeff shared a look and burst into laughter.

"At least six," Jeff said, unable to contain his grin.

"Probably upwards of that," Nick said, nodding.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you two?" Wes asked, looking more exasperated than he had a moment before.

"I could really ask the same of you," Jeff said brightly. "You seem _awfully_ tense."

"Campus is being _terrorized_ by pigs, Jeff."

"You really are overreacting about this one, Wes," Nick said. "I don't think anyone has been hurt yet. Or maybe they have. I don't know. But seeing as Jeffers and I have been walking for a good while without so much as running into a pig, I wouldn't really—"

"You haven't seen any pigs because you've been making out."

Jeff gasped and let go of the wagon to slap his hand across his chest dramatically. "You noticed and you didn't _congratulate_ us? That is the rudest thing I have ever—"

"I'll congratulate you guys when you clean up this mess," he said.

"But Wes, then you'll be congratulating us for rounding up the pigs, and not for dedicating ourselves to each other for the foreseeable future."

"When you put it like that, it sounds creepy," Wes said.

"You just need to find someone who cares about you," Nick said, shaking his head pityingly. "Maybe then you could love us."

Wes sighed. "Guys, I really am happy for you," he said. "I mean, we all knew it was coming."

Jeff blinked. "You did?"

"We did," he affirmed. "Hell, David, Blaine, and I had a bet going about it. Which I lost, because it took you so long to get your shit together, so thanks."

"Blaine?" Nick asked. "I wouldn't have thought that he would bet on us."

Wes shrugged. "Well, if you ask me, I'm surprised that we didn't _all_ place bets. I mean, it really was a matter of time."

"Was I the only one that didn't realize…?" Jeff asked, frowning.

Nick smiled, squeezing his hand. "You got there," he said, giving Jeff a quick kiss.

"And now you can be overwhelmingly adorable as well as a bit nerve-wracking," Wes said. "Which is great, really. But, um… pigs. Please tell me you have a game plan."

"Well, Wesley, I'm pretty sure you _saw_ our game plan," Jeff said with a shrug.

"Walking around, flirting, and hoping for the best?"

"Precisely," Nick said with a grin, then excitedly gestured towards the wagon, where _1_ was still patiently sitting. "And we have more pigs than you do, so I think it was a pretty good call on our part."

Wes let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright," he said, "how did you catch that one?"

Jeff shrugged. "He just came to me," he said. He paused, and then added, "He loves me."

"Alright," Wes said. "Great. The pig loves you. Wonderful. Make the rest of them love you, then."

"No can do, Wesley," Jeff said, "It's super tiring being so lovable."

"Oh my _God_, Jeff, are you—"

"This has a simple solution," Nick said brightly. "We just need someone who is infinitely charismatic and likeable. But _where_ could we find someone like that?"

He and Jeff looked at each other for a moment, frowning and stroking imaginary beards as if in thought until Jeff hummed cheerfully and leaned his head on Nick's shoulder, a faraway look on his face as he said, "Blaine Anderson."

* * *

><p>What had he done <em>wrong?<em>

Kurt hadn't expected to come back downstairs to find Finn standing alone in the kitchen, and he _definitely_ had not expected Finn to look at him with a sad face and tell him that Blaine had told Finn to tell him he loved him and left.

Part of Kurt was wondering how true the message Finn delivered could be true. If you truly loved someone, you wouldn't leave them without any warning. You would say goodbye, wouldn't you?

He wasn't sure exactly when it was that his heart broke. The instant he saw the look on Finn's face when he saw Kurt, he knew that nothing good would happen in the following moments. That could have been it. Or maybe it was when Finn said "Kurt," or more the _way_ he said it, almost cautious, as if he was a small woodland creature that could easily be scared off. Well, Finn didn't know him and had never really seen anyone with wings before; maybe that was how he saw him. Still, though, it didn't bode well.

Or maybe it was when the words "he left" came out of Finn's mouth; or the nervous, somber shake of his head when Kurt asked hopefully if he was coming back.

He could, however, pinpoint the exact moment when he broke down. That, of course, was a lot easier.

He had held on for a lot longer than he would have anticipated being able to—if he had been able to anticipate being in this situation, that is. He managed to make it through a conversation with Finn without crying, which he was proud of himself for. Though, in the interest of full disclosure, the conversation was mostly one-sided. Finn asked if he was okay and he nodded, which was still impressive because he was _sure_ that if he moved a muscle he'd burst into tears.

But the thing about being asked if you were okay was that it always made you cry if you're on the verge of tears.

So Kurt had muttered a quick 'excuse me' and turned away and, once he was sure Finn couldn't see him anymore, practically sprinted to the guest room that his father had shown him on the quick tour he'd given him of the house.

The second the door shut behind him and he flopped face-first onto the bed, he completely let go, shamelessly sobbing into the pillow.

There had to be a reason Blaine had left, right? Had he said something wrong? Done something wrong? Why didn't Blaine say anything? He could have _fixed it_.

He couldn't stop himself from retracing his steps over the past few hours and, finding nothing within that timeframe that he thought would upset Blaine so deeply that he'd just leave, anytime within the past few days and weeks.

Was it today? Had he said something wrong at lunch? Had his father said something to Blaine? No, if he'd said anything, Blaine would have told him about it. This had to have been something Kurt had done, right?

Maybe it wasn't one isolated event; maybe it was just some big complaint that had been boiling away at Blaine for days, weeks, or even _months_. Kurt probably had some vocal tic or something that ground Blaine's gears until he was finally _done_.

Was his voice too high? He'd always thought it was a bit high.

Did he chew loudly? He was never really sure if it sounded as loud outside his head as it did inside.

Did he talk too much? Sure, Blaine had never treated him at all the way a pet was usually treated, but it had still been trained into him to not speak too much.

Did he not talk enough? He spoke far more now than he had in the beginning, but what if it still wasn't enough?

Was he rude? After all, the first time Blaine introduced him to his friends, Kurt had nearly bitched one of them out (granted, the other boy was also being rude, but he still wasn't thinking about isolated incidents).

Did he care too much about his appearance? He did spend nearly an hour getting ready whenever Blaine made plans for them. His boyfriend (ex-boyfriend, he thought, causing him to let out a shaky whimper into the pillow) had ribbed him for it, but he'd always figured he was just kidding around.

What if he was bad in bed? That thought made him pause. Sex was still a relatively new part of their relationship, though they had done it a number of times. Maybe he was terrible and Blaine was too nice to say anything about it. He wouldn't put it past him; Blaine did seem to subscribe to the old adage of 'if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.' And, regardless of what Blaine said, chances were that sex was important to him. He had willingly bought a _pet_, for God's sake. Everyone knew what they were for.

Still, though, none of these options sounded all too likely. Possible? Yes, of course. There were a few thoughts in his head that he quickly and easily batted away because they were too unreasonable. Lots of them, though, were completely possible.

But there was one thought, though, that Kurt pushed away for as long as he could, but it kept coming back.

What if Blaine didn't love him?

Maybe Blaine had just thought that he loved him. After all, he had been so quick to declare his love for Kurt. Kurt had come to terms with this and accepted the fact that love at first sight did indeed exist, but what if he had been so blinded by _his_ love for _Blaine_ that he didn't realize that the other boy didn't truly love him. He'd been so focused on being the one that loved back, that fell in love later, that he hadn't taken the time to notice that he was the one loving first.

And maybe Blaine truly had thought that he loved Kurt. He probably had, considering all the efforts he had made to do nice or romantic things for Kurt, and to make him feel more comfortable around him. But some time between then and now, he had woken up and realized that he didn't actually love Kurt.

It had been an illusion. Something had tricked him into thinking Kurt was someone special to his heart—maybe it was his wings, maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was his _sparkling_ personality—but it had snapped and now he had to take it back. Kurt had inadvertently caught him in his lie, accidentally called his bluff. And that was that. He'd at least had the courtesy to make sure Kurt made it somewhere nice, instead of back into the facilities to find another owner, one who would never come anywhere near being Blaine.

But that couldn't be true, could it? That was impossible, right?

Kurt shifted to lay on his side so he could pull his knees up to his chest and letting out a sob. That was it, then. Blaine didn't love him. Blaine had realized that the concept of actually loving a _pet_ was ridiculous. He'd used him for one last fuck and then thrown him away.

That was too harsh, wasn't it? Kurt and Blaine's last night together wasn't anything he'd describe so lewdly as _fucking_.

But Blaine had broken Kurt's heart. He had a right to be harsh.

The problem was, though, that he didn't really feel like being harsh. In fact, what he really felt like doing was curling up in Blaine's arms and feeling all his worries and troubles melt away with every kiss Blaine peppered across his skin. Of course, that wasn't an option anymore, so he did the next best thing: he cried.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd just completely let go and let himself just _cry_. The pillow was wet and hopefully it would dry by the time he had to fall asleep—because he didn't get to sleep in the comfort of the familiar bed at Dalton anymore—though he realized that chances were he'd still be crying, then.

He knew that it was a bit childish. (Or a lot childish; he wasn't really sure anymore.) Even though Blaine had left him, he had still left him with his _father_, who he had been missing for about half of his life. He was being immature and selfish. He was being that character that so many books had that broke down when their boyfriend broke up with them. He _hated_ that character.

At the moment, though, he couldn't bring himself to care. It would take far too much effort to try to rein it all back in at this point. And as much as it also sucked, it kind of felt good to just let go and sob into a pillow.

* * *

><p>"Shh, he's probably sleeping," Jeff whispered, and then turned back to his door as Nick leaned up against the wall. He hurriedly unlocked it and ran in, jumping on top of Blaine, who was curled up in bed. "Blaine Anderson, this is your wake-up call!"<p>

"Go away," he said.

Jeff sighed, dropping down on the bed so that his face was right next to Blaine's ear. "But Buh-_laine_," he whined loudly. Blaine moved away, but he followed him, carrying on speaking, "While you were sleeping, so many things have happened and you are not missing out on this." He paused. "Also, we need your help."

"You need my help with what?" Blaine asked. "And what is so important that you're dragging me out of my pity party?"

"I think the fact that you acknowledge that it's a pity party speaks volumes," Jeff said, "and you were secretly hoping that I'd come in here with something crazy."

"No," Blaine said, "that doesn't sound true at all."

"Blaine Anderson is not a moper."

"He is today."

"And, like, the past week. Not cool."

"You were moping, too."

"Not anymore."

"You weren't in love with him."

Jeff didn't say anything for a moment, then made a sound somewhat resembling a cat's trill. "That reminds me," he said, then sat up. "Nick! Nicholar! Nicholas!"

Nick popped his head in the door. "Jeff? Jeffers? Jeffrey?"

"Come here, we have something to show Blainers," he said with a grin.

Nick smiled, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Jeff sat up quickly, tilting his head as he surged forwards to meet Nick's lips. For a second, Nick just smile into the kiss, then tilted his head and taking in a deep breath through his nose, taking in the smell of Jeff this close. His hand moved up to Jeff's shoulder and rested there in a movement that really should not have felt so familiar but Nick and Jeff never were normal.

Suddenly, Jeff pulled back and said excitedly, "Pickles!"

"What?" Nick asked, bringing a hand up to his mouth. "I haven't even…"

"Our pig. His name is Pickles," Jeff said. Looking at Blaine, he added, "We have a pig."

"Wait, that's what you think about when—you know what, I signed up for this," Nick said, shaking his head with a laugh.

"What is going _on_?" Blaine asked.

"Well, Dad, this is my boyfriend, his name is Nick," Jeff said brightly.

"That wasn't just to make you watch us kiss, which, in hindsight, was probably a bit mean, all things considered," Nick said, looking a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh crap," Jeff said, his eyes widening as he looked at Blaine. "You know I'm better at showing than telling."

"It's fine, guys. It's really great. I mean it!" he grinned at them, then blinked, adding, "Just… that's not what you needed my help with, right? There are some things I just can't do, guys."

"That's not… no. I'll show him the ropes," Nick said, patting Jeff's shoulder.

"Why are you showing _me_ the ropes?" Jeff asked with a pout.

"Last I checked, you still said you were straight," Nick said with a shrug, and then turned back to Blaine. "The thing is, I may or may not have unleashed almost half a dozen pigs on campus with no way to gather them back up."

"Seriously, guys?"

"This one was _actually_ all Nick," Jeff said, holding his hands up innocently. "But we do already have one of the pigs. His name is Pickles."

"And where is Pickles?" Blaine asked, looking around.

"He's in a wagon outside," Jeff said. "Wes is watching him."

"Wes is in on this?"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Of course not," he said. "He's just trying to make sure we get them all rounded back up."

"So, how did you catch the first pig?"

"Pickles loves me," Jeff supplied helpfully. "Which is why I think I should keep him."

"There is no way I'm living with a pig," Blaine remarked.

"You'll come around," Jeff said. "Anyways get dressed and oh _wait_, you're already dressed. And in bed. That is disgusting."

"I fell asleep after class, it's not like I've been wallowing in my own filth."

Jeff shrugged. "But you have been, so."

Blaine didn't say anything in reply as he got up and smoothed down his clothing. "So, how did you guys manage to catch the first pig?"

"Using my charm and charisma," Jeff said. "Which is why we decided that we needed you."

Blaine sighed. "Alright," he said. "That totally makes sense. Totally."

"Just help us, jerk," Jeff said, pouting.

"I'm up," Blaine said, crossing the room. He glanced in the mirror on the back of their door, his hair still ungelled and now a bit of a mess from lying in bed. He patted it down lightly then gave up with a sigh, looking back at Nick and Jeff. "When you say there are four pigs on campus…"

"All over, most likely," Nick said. "They've probably scattered. And they might be hiding. I don't know. That's their prerogative, I guess. It's not like I can stop them at this point."

"And in theory somebody could be harboring them like fugitives," Blaine said, not a question.

Nick blinked. "Oh," he said. "I never even thought about that."

"Pickles is the smallest, though," Jeff said, "and even he is a bit heavy. So that helps."

Nick's phone chimed and he pulled it out of his pocket. He grimaced as he read the text message, and then looked back up. "Well, Wes is getting a bit testy," he said, "so we ought to get getting."

* * *

><p>He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he heard his father say.<p>

Kurt didn't move or say anything in reply, wishing that he could disappear. He didn't want him to see him like this, especially not after being apart all those years.

"I would ask how you're doing," Burt said, moving his hand to stroke comfortingly up and down Kurt's back between his wings, "but I think we both know the answer to that."

Kurt mumbled something that even he wasn't sure was words, but hoped conveyed something along the lines of _'I'm really glad to be here and I'm glad you care about me so much that you're going to try to comfort me, but I really just want to sit here and cry. I really don't want you to see me like this.'_

It didn't, apparently, because Burt asked, "Do you want to talk?"

The answer, really, was no, he did not want to talk about it. He wanted to be childish and cry and pout and be angry at the world and Blaine but mostly at himself because he'd upset Blaine enough that he'd made him leave, but he couldn't really say that. "Why'd he leave?"

"Blaine?"

Hearing Blaine's name out loud was somehow more painful. He wasn't sure why; it wasn't as if he hadn't repeated Blaine's name in his head _countless_ times in however long he had been crying (he hoped it had only been a few minutes). He couldn't have expected the fact that Blaine wasn't there would mean that no one would mention him or his name; that was ridiculous. Whatever it was, though, it hurt like a _bitch_. Before he could stop himself he let out a loud sob and then quickly said, "Sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize, kid," Burt said, his hand pressing tenderly into Kurt's back. His hand was warm and comforting in a way that Kurt remembered only vaguely in the back of his mind. Recently he'd only associated that feeling with Blaine (and occasionally Nick and Jeff, who were insanely protective as well as just insane in general) but there was something undoubtedly familiar about his father's comforting touch. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I'm being immature," Kurt said. "And you have to deal with a trainwreck and it's not really worth it for you and you didn't sign up for—"

"Kurt," he said, "Do you really think that?"

Kurt finally looked up at his father, finding his brows drawn tight with concern. "I don't know," he said, "I don't know anything right now. I just… he's _gone_."

"You really loved him, huh?"

He made a noise that was either a sob or a laugh (even _he_ wasn't entirely sure which one it was, to be honest). It felt like a question that shouldn't have needed to be asked. Everyone at Dalton had always poked fun at them for being so sickeningly in love, but he realized with a jolt that his father had _never_ seen them like that. "So much," he said. "More than he loved me, apparently."

"Now, don't say that," Burt said, shaking his head. "I'm no good at this stuff, but there's no denying the way he looked at you."

"Hm?" Kurt asked, looking up at him curiously.

"That boy is crazy for you," he said.

"Then why'd he leave?"

"I said crazy, didn't I?"

In spite of himself, Kurt laughs at that. Even Blaine would have laughed at that, he reasoned. Blaine often made self-deprecating jokes.

Burt shifted awkwardly. "But you're okay, right?"

Kurt paused, curling his body against his father's. "Not… not right now. Not yet," he said. "He was my everything."

Burt looked down at his son, shaking ever-so-slightly with blue eyes rimed with tears, and he came to a realization. Years had passed and so many things had changed, both he and Kurt had gone through all kinds of events, good and bad, since they had last seen each other, and yet… Yet, not that much had changed. Kurt was still his little boy. He was still his son, in need of comfort after losing a loved one. The only difference was that last time, it had been his mother.

After all, though, this was his Kurt. This was the same boy who had grown up hanging onto every word his mother read to him from fairytales and had such an idealistic view of the world and especially love for someone who had so much to lose so easily. Good fortune had given him love in his relationship with Blaine, and Burt wasn't sure what he could do now to make sure that Kurt's faith in romance was not permanently shaken because of this. He just had to try.

Slotting his fingers through Kurt's feathers (not only had he grown into his wing, but they had also grown themselves, his feathers longer and thicker now that he was mature), Burt sighed. "What do you say we watch a movie or something?"

Kurt smiled a little bit. "My pick?" he asked.

"Of course," Burt replied, letting out a relieved laugh when Kurt perks up, even almost imperceptibly so, and goes to pick a movie. Progress.

* * *

><p>"He's really cute," Blaine said, crouching down to look at the pig in the wagon.<p>

"Ain't he just?" Jeff gushed, reaching down and scooping Pickles up and giggling at the sound of surprise and also possibly protest that he emitted.

"So how many more pigs did you say are out here?" Blaine asked, glancing around them as if expecting them to just be casually laying about, totally escaping the notice of the boys looking for them.

"Four," Nick supplied, smiling as he watched Jeff bouncing slightly with Pickles in his arms as one did with a baby.

"Four?" Wes asked. "But I definitely saw a pig labeled six and we only have one."

Jeff snorted. "You really are clueless, aren't you, Wesley?" he asked.

He frowned, his face seeming to puff out a little bit with indignation. He intended to make a witty remark, but instead settled for a terse, "No."

"The prank," Blaine began to explain, "is that you skip a number when you're labeling them, so that people are looking for extra pigs where there aren't any."

Wes nodded in understanding, while Nick clapped Blaine on the shoulder. "Look at our Blainers, all grown up and understanding pranks! I'm so proud!"

Blaine smiled, laughing as he watched Jeff delicately set Pickles back down into his wagon.

"Ah, damn," Jeff mumbled, patting Pickles's head. "I meant to grab a pillow or something for you, baby."

"It's a _pig,_" Wes pointed out. "It's probably going to poop in there."

"You poop, too, Wes. That doesn't mean we like you any less, either," Jeff said with a shrug.

"Guys?" Blaine asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really enjoying this, but do we have any idea whatsoever on how to round up these pigs? And when are you returning them to wherever they came from?"

"As soon as we get them back together, I guess," Nick said. "I mean, I'll have to pay him more, but in theory we could just leave them until administration gathers them up or something."

"Then we'd have to contact administration and let them know that we need the pigs, therefore informing them that it was you that put them here," Blaine pointed out.

Jeff laughed. "As if they don't already _know_." To be fair, Nick and Jeff were pretty notorious on campus for their pranks.

"Well, at this point they can't _prove_ anything," Blaine said.

"But I'm also so lazy," Nick said, sighing dramatically.

"This isn't a choice, guys, you need to gather the pigs," Wes said.

"Or what?" Nick asked with a grin.

"Or… or you can say goodbye to any future solos?" Wes said, though his voice definitely went up at the end as if it were a question.

Jeff snorted. "What _solos_?"

Blaine slid down the brick wall exterior of the building, and the other boys followed suit. "Ideas?"

"Anybody have a net?" Nick asked.

Jeff considered this for a second, then shook his head. "Not after that time we filled Beardsley's classroom with fish."

Nick laughed, smiling fondly. "Good times," he said.

Wes had pulled his phone out, and was looking at something on it with a frown. "I Googled how to make a pig come, and nothing came up," he said with a sigh.

"That's a risky move there, Wes," Nick said. "You could have stumbled upon some of the weirdest porn you will ever see."

"Is that legal?" Blaine asked. "That can't be legal."

Nick shrugged. "Who knows?"

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Blaine stood back up with a sigh. "I'm just going to start _looking_."

The other three boys grudgingly agreed that this was probably their best bet at this point, and split up (except for Nick and Jeff, who stayed together for obvious reasons). The next few hours were spent unproductively wandering around campus in search of pigs or signs of them. For heavy, dirty, and not particularly quiet or subtle animals, they were being remarkably hard to find.

Finally, Jeff's phone rang, and he pulled it out to see that David was calling. "Hello?"

"_Is this pig yours?"_

Jeff laughed. "Well, it's more Nick's than mine," he said. "Which number is it?"

"_Five_," David replied, sounding stressed. "_He's a real terror. What should I do with it?"_

Jeff opened his mouth to reply, but found that he did not have an answer. Looking at Nick, he asked, "What _should_ David do with Five?"

Nick frowned, then sighed. "Can he shepherd it to my car?"

"Take it to my car," Jeff said into the phone. "And me and Nick will be there shortly."

"…_Thanks_," David said. As he ended the call, Jeff could hear him saying, "_No, don't, don't—what are you doing?_"

Noticing that Nick was looking at him curiously, Jeff explained, "My car is already dirty. We drive yours when we want to be classy."

Nick smiled, leaning over and kissing Jeff's cheek quickly. "You are the _sweetest_."

"I know," Jeff said, grinning.

* * *

><p>When they got to the parking lot where Jeff's car was parked, David was already there, kneeling down and somewhat cautiously touching the pig to keep it where it was. There appeared to be some patches of dirt on his pants, no doubt from the pig.<p>

"There you guys are," he said, sounding relieved. "He is rowdy."

Jeff laughed, moving forward to unlock the back door of his car. "We can't all be Pickles."

"Pickles?" David asked.

"Pickles," Nick said, gesturing to the pig in the wagon that he was now dragging. "Jeff's newest friend."

"Ah," David said, nodding.

"Alright, bugger," Jeff said, opening the back door of his car and gesturing for Five to jump in. "In you go." It took a bit of coaxing and nudging and lifting, but eventually he did jump in, which was impressive for an animal so round with such short legs.

"Idea!" Nick said. "Obviously this isn't working out as well as we had hoped. But what if we got _all_ the Warblers to work together and find the pigs? They love doing shit for us."

"I'm not sure how true that is," David said. "But the more eyes the better, I guess."

"Emergency meeting of the Warblers it is, then!" Jeff said excitedly. "David, could you send out a mass text? It looks more legit if you send it."

David sighed, but pulled out his phone. "The things I do for you two, I swear."

"Up to the meeting room, then?" Jeff asked.

Nick nodded with a groan. "We are walking so _much_ today," he said.

Jeff smirked, then turned his back to Nick, bending his knees slightly and holding out his arms. "Hop on up," he said, and Nick did so without second thought, smiling when Jeff grabbed his knees and stood back up. Glancing over at David, he asked, "Could you bring Pickles with us?"

"By the way, Wes told me about you guys," David said, following as Jeff started walking. "It's about time."

Jeff sighed. "So literally everyone knew?" he asked.

"Pretty much," he affirmed.

After a moment, Nick started giggling, burying his face against Jeff's neck.

"Penny for your thoughts, Nicholar?" Jeff asked, tilting his head slightly.

"You're giving me a piggy-back ride," he said. "And we've been chasing pigs." Once he got that thought out, he laughed even harder, wrapping his arms tighter around his boyfriend's neck.

* * *

><p>Once they got there, most of the Warblers were already assembled. Thad even had the second smallest pig on his lap, as if he knew exactly what this was going to be about (or maybe he had woken up with it next to him and thought that it was his obligation to look after it).<p>

"Friends," Jeff said, holding out his arms as he spoke to them, then clasping his fingers together like he was a religious speaker giving one of his talks, "I call you here today because there is a swine epidemic on our campus."

There were various comments after that:

"Should have known it was you guys."

"I don't want to get sick."

"Trust Nick and Jeff."

"I heard you guys got together!"

Jeff grinned. "My dearest boyfriend," he said, reaching over and slinging an arm around Nick's shoulders, "has unleashed a menace. Two of the five pigs are already in our possession. One appears to be with Thad."

Thad nodded. "Do you want her back now?" he asked.

"After this meeting is adjourned," Jeff said, "Thank you."

Nick grinned at Jeff channeling his inner Wes (and also most likely poking fun at Wes, because all the best people did).

"Now, you may ask what is in it for you if you find the remaining pigs, Two and Six," Jeff went on, "And as you know, we Warblers sing many a fine song. If you find either of these pigs, you will get to pick songs for our next competition!"

"What?" Wes asked. "I did not approve this."

"It's too late, we already promised them that opportunity," Jeff said, his wide grin never faltering.

"Dammit, Jeff."

"That's a common response," Jeff said, then turned back to the room at large. "Go, birdies! Fly! Find your swine! Bring them to my car!"

The Warblers got to their feet and filed out of the room, some making comments to each other about how weird it was, and others used to the craziness that came with the territory and were instead talking strategy.

* * *

><p>After that, the afternoon was a lot more relaxed.<p>

After a bit of people-watching, Jeff, Nick, and Blaine went to sit on the hood of Nick's car, leaving Jeff's car's AC running so as to not let Five and Three roast. Pickles was quietly napping on Jeff's car.

"We really can't keep him," Nick said.

"I want to, though," Jeff whined. "Blaine, tell Nick he's being unfair."

"Oh no," Blaine said, "I am not getting into this."

"Why _not_?" Jeff whined. "You're the best mediator."

Nick grinned. "He's not saying anything because he agrees with me and you know where he sleeps."

"It's okay, Blainers," Jeff said, pulling his hand free from Nick's momentarily to pat Blaine's head, "I won't smother you in your sleep. Probably."

"Screw it, I'm not sleeping here," Blaine said. "I'm going to go sleep somewhere far, far away."

"Like Lima?" Nick suggested. "With your boyfriend? And then bring him back?"

"_Stooooop_," Blaine protested, dragging out the word. "Today was the first good day and he's probably happier there than he is here."

"Bullshit," Jeff said. "No one is happier without your stupid face."

"It hurts me when you call my face stupid," Blaine pouted.

"Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

"No."

"Good," Nick said. "Because Jeff has a boyfriend and that's _cheating_."

"You like saying that, don't you?" Blaine asked.

"Of _course_ I do," Nick confirmed. "I mean, didn't you with Kurt? Or when he told you he loved you back, don't even try to tell me you didn't say 'I love you' more often just to hear him say it back."

Blaine blushed. "People like being liked," he agreed. After a moment, he sighed. "I am the biggest asshole ever."

"With all the best intentions," Jeff said. "But yeah."

Nick sighed. "You could go back and talk to him, you know."

"It's been too long," Blaine said. "If he's moved on, I don't want to stir things up again needlessly."

"It's not needlessly if it's in the name of love!"

Blaine sighed. "Just… distract me, please? Entertain me with your crazy."

Jeff bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say something more, but in the end thought better of it. "Remember that time that we got David to try on all those homecoming dresses? Classic!"

"He looked pretty good in that zebra print one, as I recall," Nick said. "But that will never hold a candle to when we actually got Trent to wear a dress to a party."

They exchanged stories back and forth for hours, going on through the rest of the day and through the end of the Warbler Pig Hunt.

In the end, Six was found by Wes and David, who had decided that they needed to take back one of the songs for the Council's discretion, and Two was found by Flint. The song Flint chose was Hollaback Girl, though he admitted that chances were, he wouldn't be able to convince Wes to keep it.

* * *

><p>For all that Finn was awkward (physically as well as socially, seriously, how did someone get so tall?), he was well-meaning and friendly enough to more than make up for it.<p>

And, as much as Kurt would deny it, he did find some of Finn's quirks to be, well, endearing, for lack of a better word. Like the way that he ate food so quickly and thoroughly that one might think that he had been deprived food for weeks, if he had ever had food ever. Or the way he sang, obnoxiously loud but, remarkably, on key in the shower.

It should have been annoying, really, but Finn _was_ nice and, to some extent, those habits reminded Kurt of the Warblers, who also ate like pigs and sang at both appropriate and inappropriate times (so Finn had that up on them, at least).

And after school, he would make Kurt a snack while telling him about his day (his classes were boring and his glee club full of people that were generally nice but also crazy, not the least of which was his girlfriend), then settle down to watch TV.

They usually ended up watching things that Kurt would not have expected Finn to willingly watch, much less excitedly chatter about when he found them while scrolling through the guide.

"Dude, don't tell Puck I watch this, but it's actually pretty awesome," Finn said, selecting Say Yes to the Dress from the guide. "I could probably watch nothing but TLC and be satisfied, you know?"

(This was true, if what Kurt had seen so far was any indication. Other shows Finn enjoyed but quickly requested that Puck did not find out about included Cake Boss, Toddlers and Tiaras, and Sister Wives.)

Which was how Kurt found himself laying on the couch with Finn, watching Say Yes to the Dress and making rude comments for what had to have been _hours_.

"Her mother needs to shut up," Kurt said. "She looks nice."

Finn nodded. "I like the bottom," he replied, holding up his hands and gesturing down and outwards to imitate the dress, "it's all floofy."

"The simplicity of the bottom works well with the detail on the bodice," Kurt said with a nod.

"Couldn't have said it better, man," he agreed.

Suddenly, the front door opened. Kurt assumed it was his father until the sound of the door was accompanied by quick, quiet footfalls and a cheery and decidedly girlish squeal. "Ooh, I _love_ this show!"

Kurt looked over his shoulder in alarm to see who had just let themself into the house. He wasn't sure how he felt about someone he had never seen before randomly showing up out of nowhere, but she _did_ have a key, and considering she stood at about five feet or so, wearing a yellow dress and a friendly smile, she probably wasn't too dangerous.

"Rachel!" Finn called out, standing up. "This is Kurt."

Rachel beamed, as if instead of being introduced to her boyfriend's winged stepbrother (who he had only just recently met), she was meeting the president or her favorite celebrity. "Hi, Kurt!" she said brightly, holding out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Rachel, but I'm sure Finn has already told you all about me."

Kurt nodded, not entirely sure what to say in response. It wasn't entirely true; Finn hadn't really talked all too much about Rachel (Kurt liked to think that it was because Finn realized that talking about his girlfriend to someone who had just been left by their boyfriend was a bit rude), but he had heard enough to know that it was best to sometimes just go along with what she said.

"Anyways, Finn said that you were experiencing heartbreak, and I personally know _all_ about that," she said, setting herself down primly on the couch between the boys.

"I hope you don't mind, bro," Finn said quickly, "I just… she's a girl so she's probably, like, _way_ better at talking about feelings than me. And she has gay dads!"

"It's true, I do," she said, nodding.

Kurt wasn't really sure how her having gay fathers would help her to help him, if he even needed help (he was doing pretty well, he thought), but he wasn't going to say so. "So you're going to magically make everything better?" he said. He hadn't intended to sound bitter, but maybe he _was_ a little bit bitter.

She seemed to consider this for a second. "Well, not _magically_," she said. Twirling a lock of hair on the tip of her index finger, she sighed. "But I'm sure there's something I, or _we,_" she added, nudging Finn with a smile, "could do to help make you feel better."

"I think I feel pretty good right now," Kurt said, "I'm pretty happy to just sit here and watch Say Yes to the Dress."

"No!" Rachel said, shaking her head vehemently. "The last time Finn and I broke up, I sat in bed for _days _eating ice cream and watching shows like this and calling all the girls ugly."

"The _last_ time you broke up?" he asked.

"We've broken up a few times," Finn admitted quietly.

"It's okay, though," she said brightly, "because Finn and I are soul mates, and nothing can change that."

Kurt didn't say anything to that.

Suddenly, she got an excited look on her face. Bouncing slightly, she started, "Do you think you and…"

"Blaine," he offered.

"Right," she said, "do you think that you and Blaine are soul mates?"

Kurt blinked. Of course they were, weren't they? If someone was the love of your life, it followed that they were also your soul mate, didn't it? Blaine had said that he was the love of his life, and no matter what else had happened since then, that wasn't really something you could just say "takesies backsies" on (progress, Kurt realized, was all about little steps; he now let himself firmly believe that Blaine _had_ loved him, and he was working towards the resolve that no matter if he knew it or not, he still did love Kurt, dammit).

"Kurt?" she prodded after a moment.

He nodded. "Of course we are," he said.

Rachel smiled and nodded. "Then you are _bound_ to end up back together," she said. Looking over at Finn and grabbing his hand with a smile, she added, "We always do, isn't that right, Finn?"

Finn looked away from the television to nod. "Yeah, definitely," he agreed distractedly, clearly enraptured by the sister of the bride telling her that the dress she had on made her look fat.

Rachel rolled her eyes fondly and turned back to Kurt. "In the meantime, however, you are sad and I don't like seeing people sad so would you like to talk about it?"

Finn had been right; you _could_ get whiplash while talking to Rachel. "Not really," Kurt replied. "And I'm not sad."

Rachel reached out and grabbed his hands. "It's _alright_, Kurt," she said, "pain makes us stronger. You don't have to pretend to not be upset. As a performer, I highly value emotional pain, you know."

Kurt nodded slowly. "I'm trying not to be upset, because it doesn't change anything," he replied.

"If you say so," Rachel said with a shrug.

"Sorry to disappoint you," he said.

"I'm not disappointed," she said. "I just think it would do you some good to let out your feelings."

He shrugged again, wishing that Finn would say something to break the silence or do something to distract Rachel, whose gaze was fixed intently on Kurt, which was rather unnerving.

"Alright, I've been _dying_ to touch these since I got here," Rachel said, holding out her hands and wiggling her fingers.

It took Kurt a moment to realize that she was referring to his wings. Since Carole had hushed Finn for asking about his wings during that first lunch while Blaine was still there, no one had really mentioned them, and aside from his father, no one had touched them. It had almost been as if they weren't even there. "Go ahead," he said, holding back a sigh.

She leaned forward and stroked his left wing. "Oh my _gosh_," she said excitedly, running her fingers through his feathers. "They're so _soft_. Are all pets' wings this soft? Do you use product on them? Do they make product for wings? Is it safe to use in hair?"

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly Rachel jumped forward and started rubbing her face against his wing. "Uh… Rachel?"

She jumped back then, then leaned back against Finn, who appeared to still be oblivious to what was going on beside him. Kurt had to admit, his tunnel vision was impressive. "Sorry," she said, "They're just the softest things I've ever felt."

"Thanks?"

Rachel nodded. "It's quite a compliment, because I own a lot of sweaters."

"She does," Finn put in quickly.

Kurt nodded slowly, absentmindedly reaching a hand up to smooth down his feathers where she had ruffled them.

"There is no way it's naturally that soft," she said.

"I don't do anything special with them," he said with a shrug. Surprising as it may have seemed to anyone that watched his careful routine with his skin and hair, he _didn't_ do anything more with his wings than he had to to make sure they weren't gross. At times, he liked to pretend he didn't have wings.

Rachel sighed, and then blinked, sitting back up quickly. "Do you like to sing?"

_Whiplash._ "What?"

"I asked if you like to sing," she repeated. "Your voice is _made_ to sing."

"I sing from time to time," he said, forcing down a memory that was trying to surface from the back of his mind. Apparently Blaine had mentioned him singing to one of the Warblers, which had led to them badgering him until he agreed to sing with them.

"Ooh! You should sing with me," she said. "Singing always helps—not that there's anything to help here." She gave him a wink at that.

In spite of himself, Kurt smiled. Some part of him did already actually like Rachel in all of her forwardness and cheerfulness.

She _beamed_, standing and tugging him standing as well. "Finn, is this coffee table sturdy? I need a stage."

When Burt got home hours later, he found Kurt and Rachel twirling around the kitchen together and singing Primadonna by Marina and the Diamonds, while Finn sat on the counter eating chips and watching them as if this was totally normal (which it may have been, really).

* * *

><p>Kurt had never thought he'd be someone to make good enough friends with someone to pour his heart out to them within twelve hours of meeting them.<p>

And yet, here he was, laying in his bed with Rachel, going on and on about Blaine to her. She make comments and little noises of appreciation or disappointment or admiration at the appropriate moments, but for the most part didn't say anything.

"He always does the perfect thing at the perfect moment," he was saying. "I mean, he's not perfect by any means, but he's _my_ not-perfect perfect Blaine, so it doesn't really matter. But anyways, like I said, he always knew just what to do or say. I could be freaking out and he'd just take me in his arms and pull me in close and say something and make everything better. I wasn't sure people like that _existed_, but he does."

"It sounds like you really love him," she replied, her voice dreamy.

"I do," he said. "He's the greatest thing to ever happen to me."

"So do you have any idea why he decided to leave you here?"

Kurt closed his eyes. His answer to this question was the real reason he knew that he had made progress with this situation inside his head. After Blaine had left, he'd been so quick to assume that it spoke negatively of Blaine's feelings for Kurt. But his father's words earlier in the week _"that boy is crazy for you"_ made him reconsider his assessment. "I'm sure he had some big romantic, self-sacrificing reason for it."

"That's stupid," Rachel said candidly.

"It is," Kurt agreed. "But it's also Blaine. Stupidly perfect, but sadly with plenty of emphasis on _stupid_. Which is also why I'm so in love with him." His eyes were stinging, and without his consent he felt himself starting to cry again.

Rachel noticed. "Oh, _Kurt_," he said, reaching out and tugging him against her chest. He relaxed into her embrace. Even if it wasn't Blaine, it still felt good to be held.

"I just want to go home," he whispered against her chest.

* * *

><p><strong>As a side note, if you have any requests for missing scenes or anything else, please let me know via review or my tumblr (ottersandgayboys). Also, you can please kick my ass for updates via my tumblr.<strong>

**And as far as these missing moments go, how would y'all prefer I post them? To my tumblr, or as a separate, collection fic on FFN with each "chapter" as a different moment, or something else? Thank you so much! 3**


	10. Part Ten

_I am actually the worst at updating. This time, my excuses are that my sister came home, my other sister graduated, and I had an AP and a regional exam this past week. Each of the above took up my time, eeep!_

_Anyways, this is it, folks. This is the last chapter (though there is an epilogue coming as well). If you've stuck with me to this point, you really, really deserve a hug and a pat on the back and literally all my love._

_**Anyone that saw this last night**, nothing has changed about it. I just accidentally deleted the chapter because I am _awful_ with, well... most things._

* * *

><p>The problem was that there was still evidence of Kurt scattered around, as he was still there, just out of the room.<p>

At first, Blaine had only been aware of the emotional. He had only noticed the way his heart tugged when he woke up alone or when he brushed his teeth without Kurt beside him, playfully fighting for a spot in front of the mirror and giggling. He noticed the way his mornings didn't start with whispered conversations and declarations of love but _we have to stay oh so quiet_ so they didn't wake up Jeff. He didn't go about his day thinking about how funny Kurt would find whatever just happened. He didn't hurry back to his room when his classes let out to see Kurt. He was _alone_.

The thing was, at times, Kurt was still there, if only in Blaine's imagination. Blaine would be in bed and he'd _swear_ he heard a sigh or a sleepily murmured "Blaine" that was a bit too high to be Jeff (not to mention the fact that Jeff probably should not be saying Blaine's name in his sleep), or he'd be doing his homework and he'd hear Kurt laugh.

He was going insane.

In addition to his ghost lingering, he started noticing that there was the physical evidence, items left about just waiting for him to return, none the wiser that he never would; things that reminded Blaine and Jeff that they hadn't just been sharing a hallucination.

His toothbrush sat in the top drawer in the bathroom. His lotion was on the dresser. A jacket was peeking out from underneath their bed (which, Blaine would admit with only a little bit of embarrassment, he had taken to pulling to his nose in moments when he felt particularly pathetic). In the corner was a paper box half full of colorful paper stars that he had folded during what had come to be known as "Sex Week." A message written in his neat scrawl was left up on the whiteboard. In books, there were feathers left to mark the pages, including a few in the Bible and Blaine's old US History textbook.

If they were smarter, they would do what they could to tuck away Kurt's belongings or maybe even bring them to Lima for him, if for no other reason than to allow Jeff to say goodbye. They would erase Kurt's handwriting from the wall and stop spraying the room freshener he had bought for them.

But it wasn't that easy. There was something undeniably _final_ about getting rid of his things. It was closing the back cover of a book that you really enjoyed. Once you close the book, that's it. There's nothing more there; that was, literally, all she wrote. Sure, you could hope for a sequel, but usually you were left with a story that was, technically, finished, but you still had so many things you _wondered_.

Blaine thought back to when his great uncle had died. All of his life, it had always been _Mason and Mallory_, whose alliterative names were always paired together and mashed as if they were just one name instead of two (he'd grown up mildly obsessed with them, if he was being completely honest. They were just so in love and obviously so, even after all those years, such that people didn't always differentiate them in their minds; the way he'd always dreamed of being with someone, the way he could see himself becoming with Kurt).

But then Mason had died, just a few weeks before Christmas. Blaine had wanted to send her a card, but got stuck when he wanted to address the card.

If he had put both of their names on the envelope, it would have served as a painful reminder for her to see his name on the envelope, to know that Mason wouldn't be there to open the mail with her.

On the other hand, though, putting only her name would have hurt, too. It would have been like he was trying to forget that he had ever been there. He didn't want _that_, either.

He admitted then that he had been overthinking it, but now that he had a room full of untouchable things that belonged to someone who was essentially now just a ghost, a memory… and chances were, he was still overthinking it.

"We probably ought to do some cleaning," Jeff commented.

"Hm? Blaine asked, looking up from a pair of shoes that were decidedly not his.

"Our room," Jeff said, "looks like a bachelor pad. And, I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm a messy person. But we both became messy people while Kurt was here because he must have cleaned while we were in class or something, because it was like when you're staying in a hotel and you come back to the room in the afternoon and _wham!_ It's clean!" He paused, as if realizing that he's gone off on a tangent, then gestures vaguely before continuing, "Anyways, we've stopped cleaning, not to mention stopped touching anything within a foot radius of anything that belongs to Kurt."

"You've noticed that?" Blaine asked, sounding a bit surprised.

He nodded in confirmation, leaning back on his bed. "I mean, I've been doing it, too. Right now we're in that bereavement period, like when your dog dies. You leave the toys and ball out for a while, then you quietly stuff them away or use them for other things."

"You mean for other dogs?" he asked with a frown. Of course, Jeff hadn't meant anything by the comparison, but the thing was, if you used your dog supplies for anything else, chances were that it was for a new puppy.

"Well, sure, maybe. But obviously we're not getting a new Kurt," Jeff said, "and we need to do something about the things that are ours. Even Nick says our room is getting out of control."

"It's mostly just clothes lying around," Blaine pointed out.

He nodded. "And a growing layer of dust because apparently we are a very dusty people. And I was thinking about cleaning the bathroom, too," he said.

"Not a bad idea," he agreed.

Jeff rolled onto his side to look at Blaine. "The problem," he said, "is that I need cleaning supplies, and the most convenient place to get cleaning supplies is at the Wal-Mart."

He blinked. "Is there something wrong with your car?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "There is something wrong with _me_. I am suffering from a disorder you yourself are very familiar with."

When a few seconds had passed and it didn't appear that Jeff was planning on elaborating, Blaine asked, "What disorder?"

"CMKD," Jeff said. "Chronic Missing Kurt Disorder. Symptoms include, but are not limited to: crying, moping, an inability to touch things that belong to Kurt, and, most pertinently, nostalgia."

"Ah," Blaine said. He didn't say anything for a moment, once again struck by the fact that even though Jeff was handling it much better now than he had at first, he still missed Kurt, too. Blaine didn't have a monopoly on missing Kurt, no matter how much he loved him and regretted leaving him in Lima. "Do you need moral support to go to Wal-Mart?"

Jeff snorted. "I am a big boy," he said. "And also, if I try to pull anything off while I'm there, you'll probably just start, like, giggling or something. You're not really subtle."

Blaine laughed. "Fair enough," he said. "Good luck, then."

"Thanks," Jeff said. "I might drag Nick along, though."

"Yeah, drag Nick along," he said with a grin, folding his hands in his lap and leaning forwards toward the blonde. "So how _is_ that going?"

Jeff rolled his eyes at Blaine, who was always up for a good ole boy talk, but grinned anyways. This was killing two stones, after all: it would help Blaine get his mind off of Kurt (who, Jeff knew despite Blaine's claims otherwise, was still keeping up residence in the front of Blaine's mind, even after about a month), and it would allow Jeff to do some rabbiting about his new relationship, going strong three weeks in. "It's going well," he said. "Just like everyone knew it would. I mean, I thought it was going to be, like, overwhelmingly different or maybe awkward at first since we've been so close for so long, but… It's really not. It's basically the same, really, just with more physical affection and ridiculous nicknames just for the hell of it—okay, actually, we've always gone for the nicknames, so it's just the physical affection. I never thought I'd like just sitting around holding someone's hand that much, and yet. Oh, and let me _tell_ you, Nick is the _best_ kisser."

Jeff paused, then added, "But I won't talk to you about that, because I know you know Nick is a good kisser and that doesn't bother me because you were drunk and I made out with him while drunk, too, but it's still something we're not talking about." He got a faraway look on his face for a second, and then said, "Also, he takes me out, now, too. Like, to dinners and stuff. I didn't even know he could be so sweet but he _is. _Did I tell you he took me out to visit Pickles last weekend?" Apparently when Nick had returned the pigs to their owner, he had asked about the possibility of going back to visit them later.

Blaine laughed. "I am so glad you got your act together," he said. "Because this is every bit as cute as I knew it would be, but the wait was killer."

Jeff was about to reply when his phone rang out, and he picked it up. "Oh," he said, "speak of the devil." He looked at the message on the screen, and then said, "He's freaking out about some test."

"The Latin one?" Blaine asked.

"Probably," he replied. "I mean, he never goes to that class, so he probably hasn't learned much of anything. So I think I'll take him over to Wal-Mart, where we can grab some snacks and stuff in addition to cleaning supplies, and then I'll school him."

Blaine rolled his eyes fondly. "Didn't you nearly fail that class?"

"_Nearly_," he said. "And close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades."

"Fair enough," Blaine said. "And while you're out, I think I have a date with some laundry."

Jeff hesitated for a second. "If you want to—"

"Just go," he said, smiling in earnest. "It needs doing, and I don't want to be the third wheel or anything."

"If you're sure you're fine," he said.

"I am _ordering_ you to go hang out with your boyfriend," Blaine said, not missing the way Jeff bounced a little bit as he left the room and shut the door behind him.

* * *

><p>Jeff didn't really know much about cleaning. Of course, he knew the basics: sweeping, mopping… You used Windex on windows and shower doors; you used Scrubbing Bubbles on the tub. Nick had also pointed out a drain cleaner, saying that the sink in his and Blaine's room was a bit backed up.<p>

The thing was, he'd never really needed to clean that much. When he was a kid, his mother cleaned his bathroom for him. And then, as he'd gotten older and she'd stopped cleaning the bathroom for him, he'd learned to deal with a bit of a grimy bathroom; it wasn't like he spent great amounts of time in there. But Kurt had cleaned their bathroom and it had been _nice_. He wanted that back.

The problem was, of course, that he had no idea how one accomplished such a feat.

For the most part, though, he seemed to have conquered the bathroom. The floor and shower were close enough to what he would call clean, and the toilet was back to the off-white color it was meant to be (which, Jeff thought, was really disgusting. Was that poop residue that he had just scrubbed off the toilet bowl?).

The one thing that was still a bit concerning was the sink. He was doing his best to just stick to the instructions on the side of the bottle (ignoring the voice in his head that thought pouring the entire bottle down the drain just felt wasteful even though he _knew_ it was necessary to break down whatever was left on the inside of the pipes and had no other purpose but to go down the drain), though he ran into an issue when the directions deviated between moderate clogging to hard clogging.

Since the difference was just a matter of time, he decided to go for the extra few minutes for a hard clog. It couldn't hurt, he figured.

Once a bit over a half hour had passed, he returned to the sink and, as per the instructions, started the faucet to rinse out the drain. Sure enough, the water seemed to be going through well enough.

After a moment, a small spider ran out of a hole at the top of the sink that he was not aware had been there and _why_ was it there and _why_ had the spider run out of it?

"Hey little buddy," he said, leaning down to watch the spider closely as it made an attempt to run down the side of the vanity, watching it turn away in alarm each time he stuck the empty bottle from the drain cleaner into its path. It was tiny enough that he wasn't at all scared by it (a fact that he would brag to Nick about once he was out of his test). "What were you doing in there? And why did—"

He stopped midsentence as he looked at the sink, realizing why it was that the spider had run out. There were now bubbles flowing out of the hole. Where did that hole even _go_?

A bit panicked at the appearance of random bubbles, he let out a quiet yelp and quickly turned off the tap. Watching the bubbles disappear again, he sighed in relief and turned the water back on. Chances were, he realized, those suds were a good thing. They were probably cleaning. They smelled like cleaning supply, anyways.

Soon enough, there was nothing left but simply water running through the sink and going down the drain just as quickly as it came out of the faucet.

"I am _awesome_," he said. "I can do _anything. _If this whole school thing doesn't work out, I can totally just become a maid or something. Sure, it doesn't pay well, but Nick can be my sugar daddy. Yes, plan. I am the _greatest_ at cleaning. This is the fucking nicest, cleanest bathroom ever… barring maybe that spider. But still, you could eat off of it. Because I cleaned it. And I am a _professional_ when it comes to cleaning."

Behind him, there was applause.

* * *

><p>Nick was fidgeting in his seat, staring down at a set of notes. His foot was tapping and one hand was tapping his pencil on the tabletop while the other ran through his hair nervously.<p>

He was so distracted that he didn't look up or even seem to notice when Blaine came in and took his seat next to him.

"Uh… Nick?"

He jumped, then laughed a bit when he looked up and realized that it was Blaine standing there. "Hey," he said. A moment later, he said, "I am completely and utterly unprepared for this test."

Blaine nodded. "But I thought that Jeff helped you study last night?" he asked, looking like he was doing his best not to laugh.

"Yes," Nick affirmed, "he helped me. Study. For my Latin test."

"You didn't study at all, did you?" he asked.

The brunette laughed, shaking his head. "Not even a bit," he said. "Or rather, a little bit. We honestly tried. But, see, he decided that he'd ask me questions, and when I answered correctly, I'd get a kiss. But, well."

"Oh, I see," he said, laughing with him. "I've been down that road. That's why Kurt was prohibited from kissing any part of my body, no matter how innocuous, while I was trying to study."

"Probably a good rule," Nick said, nodding in approval. "Though I just don't think me and Jeff would be able to pull it off, particularly not considering how bad we've always been at studying, even pre-boyfriends." He glanced down at his notes and sighed before shutting his notebook and sliding them back into his bag. "Macneish is about to hand out the test, and I am going to fail either way." He held up a hand for Blaine to high-five.

He let out a laugh. "As long as you're accepting of your fate," Blaine said.

"I'm not, really," he said, "but I won't be able to retain anything I try to teach myself right now. So."

"Fair enough," he said. Looking up to see their teacher slowly stand up and disinterestedly start handing out answer sheets to students, Blaine patted Nick on the shoulder and said, "Good luck."

"I'm going to need it," he murmured in reply, twirling his pencil between his fingers nervously.

Halfway through the test, Nick started humming. After a moment, Blaine realized that he knew what it was that he was humming. He was humming Stronger.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Macneish wasn't looking (he didn't even appear to be in the room, actually), he whispered, "Seriously, Nick? Stronger?"

"I need to feel empowered," he replied. "And I feel empowered." He returned to his test, and then a few seconds later he looked back up with a smirk. "And you can't tell me you don't appreciate a good ole empowerment song."

He had him, there.

At that moment, Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he , and he silently thanked God that he had remembered to turn the volume off. He wasn't going to chance looking at the message now, lest Mr. Macneish see him and take the phone and give him an F on the test (and unlike Nick, he was feeling confident about this test). He finished up the test as quickly as he could and turned it in.

As soon as he got back to his desk, he found a text message from Jeff: Need you back here ASAP.

Such a succinct and ambiguous text message from Jeff never meant good things. And Jeff had been planning on cleaning the bathroom today, hadn't he? Chances were the room was literally covered from wall to wall with bubbles or Comet powder.

He quickly asked if he could go to the bathroom and left the room. He knew that he would probably get in trouble for not returning to class, but then again, this _was_ Mr. Macneish, who seemed utterly unaware that about half of his class was only there for test periods. So maybe he wouldn't even notice that Blaine didn't come back from the bathroom. Regardless, he couldn't, in good conscience, leave Jeff unsupervised for much longer than he already had, apparently.

Blaine quickly made his way across campus back to his dorm, all the while making up situations that he might be faced with upon returning to the room, each one a bit worse than the last. Knowing Jeff, though, any amount of entropy was possible. It usually wasn't as much a question of _if_ there was a mess, but how _much_ of a mess there was.

Swinging open the door to their room, he called out, "Jeff, what on earth did you—" He stopped short, because what he saw was not at all like any of the situations he had pictured. For a second he forgot how to breathe, but finally managed to say, "Kurt."

Perched primly—_perfectly_, one leg crossed over the other just like he always did—on the edge of his bed was Kurt, looking back at Blaine with those _gorgeous_ blue-green eyes and just looking so hopeful and breathtakingly beautiful and _here_. "Hi."

"Well," Jeff said, grabbing his keys, "I think my work here is done. I'll leave you two to it, then." He winked, then ducked out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Before Blaine could think better of it, he rushed forward and tugged Kurt to his feet and into his arms. His arms wound themselves tightly around Kurt's waist, holding firmly as if he thought he might disappear. For a second he worried that it was the wrong move, until he felt Kurt's arms come up to envelop him in return, and that was all Blaine needed to bury his face in the curve of Kurt's neck and shoulder.

"Oh my God, Kurt, you're _here_," he said. "You're actually _here_, oh, I thought I'd never see you again and I just felt so stupid and, God, I missed you, oh my God, I love you so much. I can't _believe_ you're here but you are oh my God, please take me back or at least say something, love."

He heard a sniffle, and with a jolt he realized that Kurt was crying and, oh, Blaine was, too. "Blaine," Kurt said. Blaine could tell that he was trying to make his tone sound admonishing, but his voice was thick with tears, taking some of its effect away. "You're doing that thing again, where you're nervous and you never stop talking."

"I'm not nervous," he said, finally pulling away so that he could really look at his angel, "I'm just really, really happy to see you again."

Kurt let out a long, relieved breath. "So you _are_ happy to see me?" he asked.

"Of _course_ I am," he said quickly. "When I said I love you, I meant it."

He just smiled a bit before replying, "I love you, too." Then, something in his face hardened and he stepped back out of Blaine's embrace.

Blaine stepped weakly towards him. "Kurt?"

"We can't just pretend that you didn't just leave me alone for a month with absolutely no warning," he said. "We need to talk about this."

Blaine knew that it was something that needed to happen. Part of him had just hoped that it would come later, once the high that came from seeing Kurt again had gone away.

Kurt frowned at his hesitance. "I'm doing this for us," he said. "We're never going to work out if we can't talk to each other."

He nodded quickly. "I know, Kurt, I just… I've realized over this past month that I was just… I was completely wrong," he said. "I just wanted to help you, you know? I—"

"Help me? What part, exactly, of leaving me in an unfamiliar place with only one person I had ever met before without so much as a warning was helping me?" Though the look in Kurt's eyes was far from friendly, his tone was still mostly even.

"Okay, I know it was dumb now, but at least give me credit for the fact that I didn't know that your father got remarried."

"Because that makes it _so_ much better," he replied, looking exasperated.

"Look, I know it wasn't my best plan and I know you're upset about it, but think about it from my point of view. I thought I could make you happy by returning you to your dad, and I know you'd never agree to what I had in mind, so I just… didn't say anything," he finished, hoping his statement didn't sound as lame as he thought it did.

"And you really shouldn't do that," Kurt said.

"I know, I just knew that you're still conditioned to—"

"_Conditioned?_ I'm my own person, Blaine. I—" He stopped for a second, his hands moving as he shook his head as if he couldn't believe he had to say this, to Blaine of all people. "I have my own thoughts and feelings and common sense and rationality and I can _make decisions_ and you've _never_ treated me like just some pet; you've always been really good about that, and then you go and do _this_ and don't even say anything about it because I can't be trusted to make my own decisions? Is that what this was, Blaine? Do you not trust me to make good decisions? Do you not trust me to know what is best for me? How is that supposed to make me feel?" In the middle of his rant, he had drawn his wings back, most likely unconsciously, to look intimidating. With that last question, though, his voice had dropped and his wings had, too, curling around himself

"Kurt, sweetheart, _no,_" Blaine said, reaching out and grabbing his hands, even though he knew that it was probably crossing some boundary. Kurt just looked so deflated and he couldn't help himself. "I was an _ass_. I know now that I shouldn't have made that decision on my own. It wasn't my decision to make, and since it was impacting you more, I should have talked to you before I did anything. I know you can make good decisions—heck, you are way smarter and better at stuff like that than I ever will be." He realized then that Kurt was crying. He reached up slowly (to give Kurt a chance to push his hand away) to gently wipe away the few tears that had escaped his eyes. "Baby?"

"I thought you didn't love me anymore," Kurt explained, his voice so tiny that Blaine almost didn't hear him.

"Oh, _Kurt_," Blaine said, unable to keep himself from pulling Kurt back into his arms. "Never," he whispered into his ear, "I could never—will never—stop loving you. That is just _not_ possible. It's because I love you that I did this, even as stupid as that sounds."

Kurt turned his head to breathe in Blaine's scent, warm yet masculine and oh so familiar and comforting. "You are such an _idiot_."

"I know," Blaine said. "And on top of all the other reasons that this was the stupidest thing I've ever done, I almost completely lost the one person in my life that I can trust to help me be a bit less stupid."

Kurt sighed. "Can you… I think I pretty much understand why it is that you did what you did, but can you please just sort of walk me through your logic on that one?" he asked.

"Sure," Blaine said, moving so that they were lying down, curled up together. It was a bit awkward with Kurt's wings—apparently he'd gotten a bit out of practice in terms of moving so that it wouldn't be uncomfortable for Kurt—but they were still back in each other's arms, which was what mattered most, really. "So, you remember back in December, when you told me about your mom and your dad?"

Kurt nodded, and he moved his wings so they were around the two of them like they had been that day on the snowy ground.

"Well, that was all you ever really said about that. So, I knew that it was, like, a thing for you. And then you started having these nightmares, right?"

He felt Kurt tense up. "You knew about those?"

Blaine nodded. "You'd shake and whimper and call out for your dad," he said softly. "And I guess I just sort of thought that you needed to see him. And from there I guess my mind thought that it wasn't a huge leap from finding your dad to leaving you with him—I mean, we're all supposed to live with our parents until we're adults, right? But I knew that you wouldn't just agree to it. And, yes, like I said, I made the asshole mistake of thinking that you couldn't make a decision like that because they trained you to be unquestioningly loyal and serving to the person that paid for you."

"You already knew I wasn't like the rest of them," Kurt protested weakly.

"I know you are, darling," he said, squeezing Kurt. "I wasn't thinking right, and I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you if I have to, you hear me?"

"I'll hold you to that," Kurt said. He moved up to press a kiss to Blaine's lips, just the way Blaine had been remembering and missing for a month. And somehow, despite the fact that they'd kissed countless times, and that they'd seen each other naked, and that they'd been inside each other, Blaine still felt himself blushing.

"I have an idea," Blaine said, gently pushing Kurt away from him on the bed as he moved to get up. He grabbed a piece of paper, a pen, and a textbook to use as a hard surface to write on, and then returned back to the bed.

"What's that for?" Kurt asked, eyeing the paper dubiously.

Blaine didn't say anything in reply, just started writing, slowly and deliberately:

_I, Blaine Anderson, promise to love Kurt with all my heart._

_I promise to always make it up to him when I do stupid things._

_I promise to trust him, because he's way smarter than me anyways._

_I promise to help him win at board games._

_I promise to make goofy jokes to make him laugh._

_I promise to surprise him with little gifts, especially if he's had a bad day._

_I promise to never leave his side._

_I promise to, one day, marry Kurt Hummel._

_I promise to love Kurt with all my heart._

He paused to let Kurt read through what he had written, watching as Kurt started tearing up again, and then gasping when he got to the bottom. "_Blaine_," he gasped out, his hand over his mouth. "Do you really…"

Blaine grinned, leaning forward and kissing Kurt's temple. "I am being one hundred percent honest and serious when I say that I want to marry you."

As Blaine turned to find sticky-tack to hang the paper on the wall with, Kurt said quickly, "This doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

He looked back over at the bed, where Kurt was looking at him seriously.

"I mean it," he said, "This isn't just magically better. I spent the better part of this month crying because of you, and I'm not going to just forget that."

"I completely understand that," Blaine said. "And I'll be here when you're ready." With that, he grabbed the pen again and leaned over to the wall and, between "_I promise to help him win at board games" _and _"I promise to make goofy jokes to make him laugh," _he added quickly, "_I promise to patiently wait for him whenever he needs me to."_

Sitting back down on the bed, he asked, "If you don't mind my asking, how _did_ you end up back here?"

Kurt nodded. "See, here's the thing," he said, sitting up. The smirk on his face made Blaine wonder about what it was he was about to say. "I am not here because I _want_ to be." He paused there to give him an overexaggerated look that left no question in Blaine's mind about whether or not Kurt wanted to be there.

"It just so happened," Kurt continued, gesturing vaguely yet animatedly at the same time, "that my father and I were looking through the contract the other day, and noticed a little tidbit. It _says_ that officials must be _notified_ when a transfer of ownership occurs, but you know what _else_ it says?" He looks at Blaine and then nods slightly, as if confirming that he did not know what else the contract said. "It _says_ that direct family of a pet _cannot_ own said pet. So _really_, I _have_ to be here. Twist my arm."

"Totally against your will," Blaine said, nodding.

"_Totally_ against my will," Kurt repeated. They looked at each other for a few seconds until Kurt cracked, his smirk growing into a grin and then bursting into a laugh. He takes a moment to compose himself, then looks back at Blaine sternly, "But I actually am mad at you still, no matter how giddy seeing you again makes me, alright? This isn't just going away immediately, okay? Just… remember that."

Blaine nodded, gesturing back at the addendum he had made on the paper on the wall. "Of course," he said. "I completely and utterly respect that."

"Good," Kurt said, glancing at the clock on Jeff's desk. "Now, your Latin class is letting out, and Jeff said Nick attended today, and so I think I need to pay him a visit." With that, he stood up and made his way out of the room, just as graceful as ever.

* * *

><p>Kurt made good on the fact that he was still upset with Blaine.<p>

He talked to him, sure, but he did his best to avoid doing anything that is too boyfriend-y towards him. Kurt didn't lean over to kiss him in the mornings when he left for class (a habit that Blaine had always quietly been in love with, because it was so easy to imagine them in a more domestic setting, Kurt kissing him as he headed off to work for the day), he didn't kiss him to wake him up, and he certainly did not kiss him just to kiss him. He didn't volunteer himself up for conversation; if Blaine wanted to talk to him, he had to go to him directly, and even then he might not necessarily get a conversation out of it.

The most painful part was the fact that Kurt didn't sleep in his bed. Of course, it was also simultaneously the part that even Blaine would agree was probably the most important. It's hard to keep up being mad at someone when your sleeping body wants nothing more than to be close to them. And even though they were technically still together, it was probably a bit too soon to be as close physically as they were before. That was asking for danger.

No matter how much Blaine told himself that it was for the best and they'd be back together before he knew it, it just _hurt_ to see Kurt curled up on Jeff's bed (though part of that was definitely the jealousy factor, regardless of the fact that Jeff was in a relationship that he "will not ever screw up, never, no") or stretched out on a couch or disappearing in the evenings to God knew where else.

It was frankly just really upsetting, though of course it was. Kurt was, in addition to licking his wounds now that he was back in a familiar setting (which, Blaine realized, was one of his biggest mistakes: Kurt obviously would not have been more comfortable in Lima than in Westerville, because he hadn't _been_ in Lima since he was nine), he was also turning the tables by putting Blaine in the position of suffering he had been in earlier.

Blaine wasn't sure if Kurt was doing that on purpose, but if he was, he deserved it. At least in this situation Blaine was fully aware that Kurt was there, perfectly safe and accessible, and would be returning to him eventually. Kurt, on the other hand, had not been afforded that luxury.

And, no matter how much it hurt, Blaine couldn't resent Kurt for it. He'd be similarly upset if it had been the other way around. And until Kurt said that everything was alright again, it was just a game of strategic smiles and looks and, most of all, hoping and waiting.

* * *

><p>Kurt woke up on his third Sunday back at Dalton to find Jeff shirtless and sitting in front of the fan.<p>

"What are you _doing_?" he asked.

Jeff grinned, looking over at him and waving. "You see, Kurt," he said, "It's just about summer. And you know the thing about summer? It is hot as _fuck_. And today feels like July."

"And you're already losing clothing?"

He blinked, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course I am," he answered. Then, quietly so as to not wake Blaine, who was still unobtrusively snoring, he sang, "It's gettin' hot in _hurr_, so take off all your—"

"It is nine am," Kurt said.

Glancing over at the clock, Jeff nodded, "Indeed it is."

"Why are you even _up_?"

"Well, I woke up because it's hot," he said. "Did you know you have extreme body heat? I think it's actually possible that you might actually spontaneously combust." He laughed, leaning backwards as Kurt self-consciously felt his upper arm and forehead with the back of his hand. "Also, I had a mouthful of feathers. _Apparently_, there is a trick to spooning you—"

"I wish you wouldn't."

"—there is a trick to spooning you that Blaine has and I have not."

"What part of—?"

"We need to go to Wal-Mart," Jeff said, cutting off Kurt before he could finish his sentence.

"Why?" he asked, though he moved to get up anyways.

"Because summer is coming!" When Kurt just stared at him blankly, he added, "There are things you need to buy when summer is coming. You'd think that of all people, you'd understand that."

Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then asked, "It's still morning, though. Are you sure it's not too early?"

"No! Hell no," Jeff said, shaking his head vehemently. "The most… _unique_ people show up at the Wal-Mart early in the mornings and late at night." He grinned then, as if remembering some of the people of questionable character he had seen at Wal-Mart in the past.

Getting up and grabbing clothes, he asked, "Should I wake Blaine?"

Jeff seemed to consider this for a second, but then shook his head. Dropping his head down to speak into the fan so his voice was distorted, he said, "This is going to be just you and me. I think that should be one of our things." There was something in Jeff's look that Kurt couldn't read, but it passed just as quickly as it appeared.

"Alright then," Kurt said, disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed. Before shutting the door, he called out, "Also, Jeff, a shirt wouldn't be a bad idea."

"It's Wal-Mart, though," Jeff protested, glancing down at his torso. "And I'm not even fat."

"Just… shirt? Maybe?"

"Only for you, Kurt," Jeff said, turning and grabbing a t-shirt. He let out a long sigh and pulled it on. "I understand how hard it is to resist temptation when I am shirtless, but since we both have boyfriends, I'll take one for the team here."

"What are you mumbling about?" Kurt called through the door.

"I'm sexy and I know it!"

"Oh God, don't even," Kurt said, and Jeff could just _hear_ him shaking his head. "And Blaine is sleeping. Be polite."

And Kurt didn't know it, but that was exactly what Jeff had been needing to hear. He still put a lot of stock into Kurt and Blaine's relationship, and, while they were technically together as far as he was aware, Kurt hadn't really done much of anything recently to act like it. Jeff understood that it was something about still being mad at Blaine or whatever and that was great and all, except it wasn't. But there were still things like that, little moments to remind him that Kurt was still Kurt and still definitely cared about Blaine. It helped, even in little, insubstantial things like that.

Jeff crossed the room and stood in front of the closed bathroom door, drumming his fingers against it and quietly chanting, "Wal-Mart! Wal-Mart! Wal-Mart!"

When Kurt finally swung the door open, he laughed as Jeff didn't immediately stop drumming his fingers, though it now looked like he was doing spirit fingers. "So, Wal-Mart."

"Wal-Mart!" Jeff repeated with a grin, nodding enthusiastically and throwing an arm around Kurt's shoulders as he led them out the door.

* * *

><p>Jeff frowned, talking off a pair of aviators and putting on another pair of sunglasses. "No," he said, replacing the first pair. He nodded, then glanced back at the rack of sunglasses and finding another pair. "This is just <em>unfair<em>."

Kurt glanced over from his seat in the cart ("it's a rule, Kurt, it's a _rule_"), watching as Jeff juggled putting on the new sunglasses, a pair of yellow Ray Ban-esque Wayfarers, and tried to figure out what to do with the aviators. "Problem?"

"I love all these sunglasses," Jeff said. "And there is no possible way to pick between them."

"Well, when are you ever going to be able to wear those _bright yellow _sunglasses?" he asked.

"Umm, all day, every day?"

"I'm really not sure that's a great idea," Kurt said, frowning. "For example, they clash with the outfit you're wearing right now."

Jeff glanced down at himself, and shrugged. "I think it makes me look quirky," he said. "Like, 'oh, that Jeff, he doesn't care about being normal. He probably dances around to Shake, Rattle, and Roll in his pajamas when it's raining and he doesn't feel like putting on real shoes so he gets tomato soup delivered'." He laughs at the look Kurt gives him, then says, "I just want to be Zooey Deschanel, okay?"

Kurt sighed. "Oh how I missed your insanity."

"Of course you do," Jeff said. "I am _lovable_. Just ask Nick." He paused, and then clapped and turned on his heel to face Kurt directly, grabbing the corners of the shopping cart. "That's _it!_ Just ask Nick!"

"Wait, what?"

"The sunglasses!"

Kurt nodded, watching as Jeff struggled with trying to hold two pairs of sunglasses and his cell phone. "Here," he said, holding out his hand to Jeff.

"Thanks, bro," Jeff said, glancing down at his hands. He handed the Wayfarers to Kurt and puts on the aviators, tapping out a quick message to Nick to inform him that his opinion was necessary. "Could you please…?" When Kurt nodded, he leaned forward and pointed to a button. "Push that button on the side to take a picture." With that said, he stepped back and held up thumbs up for the camera. Once Kurt took the picture, he took the phone back and sent the picture to Nick. Switching out the aviators for the wayfarers, he repeated the process.

A question had been nagging at Kurt ever since he had returned from Lima, and he decided that now, as Jeff fidgeted with his phone as he waited for Nick's reply, was as good a time as any to ask. "How did that, you know, actually happen? With Nick, I mean."

Jeff blinked. "I told you, he unleashed a bunch of pigs on campus for me, and—"

"I know, and that is really sweet, but…" Kurt frowned, furrowing his brow as he tried to find the correct words for what he was trying to say. "You don't just become boyfriends with someone because he did something nice for you."

"Oh," Jeff said, clicking his tongue. "I see. You want to get in my head, and see my _feelings_."

"If you don't mind."

Jeff glanced at his phone. "Well, as you know, Nick and I are best friends. We're inseparable. So, you know, that's a pretty good starting place. And, well, the week or so after your… departure, let's say, were pretty emotionally-charged for all of us."

"All of you?" Kurt asked with a frown. He had known that Blaine had done some moping; Nick had made sure that he knew that, but part of Kurt had overlooked the possibility of anyone else being as affected by his absence.

"Yep," Jeff said. "I'm not too proud to admit it. I was a bit lost."

Kurt blinked, watching Jeff curiously. He had no reason to lie about it, Kurt figured, and he was oddly touched.

"And it started me thinking about Blaine, and how he justified it in his mind," Jeff continued, "You know, that big self-sacrificing thing. And I started to think about that in terms of _myself_, you know? I thought to myself, _I could never do that. I could never sacrifice my happiness for someone else's._ But we'll get back to that."

Jeff pulled off the sunglasses, looking at them as he bit his lip, trying to figure out how to form his thoughts into words. "And, like, Blaine was just so _sad_. Like, he was a fucking wreck, and he probably wouldn't want me telling you that, but he _was_. And I was just wondering if I'd ever have anyone that I would be that bent out of shape over being without," he said. An involuntary smile crossed his lips as he spoke, and almost bashfully he turned his head so Kurt wouldn't notice. "And somewhere in the middle of all that, there's Nick. Just… I mean, you know Nick. Whatever else he is, he's a sweetheart. So he's here, being so damn sweet and cute and nice and he's comforting me even though he's upset about you being gone, too. And it starts to get me thinking that, you know, _that's him_. He's the one I'd give everything up for, put his happiness before mine if I had to—not that I ever think I will have to, but I would in a fucking _heartbeat_. Just the thought of losing him made me ache, but I knew I'd be willing to do it if I thought that that was what was best. I thought to myself that if I was in Blaine's shoes, I would have no idea what to do."

Kurt blinked at him, trying to process everything that Jeff was saying. He knew that a lot went on in Jeff's head, and as much as it didn't seem like it a lot of the time, he _was_ a fairly logical guy.

Seeing that he had Kurt's attention, Jeff couldn't help but give a little nudge. "I mean, Blaine didn't necessarily make the right choice, but he did it with _feeling_. He was so concerned about emotionally losing you that he physically gave you away." He paused for a second to make sure that it made at least half as much sense out loud as it did in his head before continuing, "But anyways, _Nick_. So, I've got all these feelings rising up and, I mean, they had been for a while, if I'm being completely honest, and then he goes and pulls off a prank that was, well, _for me_. And that was just this big ole explosion of feelings and I knew that there wasn't a question about it anymore; I had to kiss Nick, I had to let those feelings out. I couldn't wait another second, I had to do it."

His phone finally buzzed in his hand, and he glanced down at it. "And, I guess, that's the story." He smiled as he pocketed the phone and put the aviators back on the rack. He held up the yellow sunglasses with a grin. "These glorious sunglasses win!"

"They're pretty tacky," Kurt commented.

"But they're fun," Jeff said. "And Nick said they complimented my hair, so."

Kurt seemed to consider this for a second, and then sighed. "Okay," he said, "I'm not even going to fight you on that one."

"Now that we've gotten suitably deep for," Jeff checked his watch, "eleven in the morning—how the hell did we pass two hours already?—we need some other important summer amenities."

"You realize you're going home for the summer, don't you?" Kurt asked. This was, admittedly, another thing he had thought about. They all lived relatively close together, in the grand scheme of things (which wasn't really saying much, but anything within the state was really minor, when it came down to road trips), but during the summer they wouldn't all be immediately available, just a few doors down.

"Well, sure," Jeff said, navigating the cart past a few aisles, seemingly in search of something specific. "But one can never be too prepared." He turned, finding himself face to face with a few shelves of sunscreen. "Do you know anything about sunscreen?"

Kurt glanced at the bottles on the shelves. "Definitely get a high SPF."

Jeff nodded, reaching out to grab a bottle. "This one," he said, "has a picture of a child with its butt prominent. I, too, am concerned about my butt." He nodded to himself again, and then set the bottle in the cart by Kurt's feet.

"Get aloe," Kurt said, gesturing to a few feet down the row where there were bottles of aloe.

"Oh, true," Jeff said, nodding as he leaned down to grab a bottle. "I like your dedication to the cause."

Kurt shrugged. "I'm pale," he said, "I know what happens."

Jeff laughed loudly, turning the cart sharply at the end of the aisle. "We are having a bro day, Kurt," he announced. "We are going to spend all day shopping, because that is a manly, bro thing to do. Plan? Plan."

* * *

><p>Somehow, it was dark out by the time that they got back to Dalton. Kurt didn't even wonder how that had happened, was just glad that he was finally back. Spending time with Jeff <em>normally<em> was a bit draining, but he now had a resolve that had made spending a lazy (or as lazy as one could get with Jeff) day even more trying.

It was Jeff's fault. _I couldn't want another second, I had to do it._ His speech had given him feelings that he couldn't shake all day; feelings of urgency and love towards Blaine and _God,_ he had already wasted so much time.

Jeff disappeared off to Nick's room and Kurt didn't ask how much of that was about him wanting to see him and how much was about giving Kurt and Blaine privacy.

Upon entering their room, Kurt was disappointed to find the room empty save for a note from Blaine on the front of the TV, explaining that he was out on the lawn, stargazing. Kurt smiled fondly at the note (of course Blaine was stargazing), then turned to leave the room once more, wondering if anyone ever enforced bed checks.

Kurt had to almost entirely walk around the building in his attempt to look for Blaine, and he started to worry that Blaine was not still out there. And that was just not okay, because Kurt needed to talk to Blaine that instant. When he finally saw someone lying in the grass, looking up at the sky, he burst into a sprint to cross the distance.

"Hi," he said, slightly breathlessly as he flopped down on the ground beside Blaine.

"Kurt!" Blaine said, sounding surprised to see him.

"Blaine!" Kurt replied, grinning at him.

The look on Blaine's face told Kurt that he wanted to lean forward and kiss him, but he held back. "So… where were you all day?"

"Wal-Mart," Kurt said. "Jeff said that it'd be a 'bro day'."

"Ah," Blaine said. Kurt could feel him slightly shaking as he moved his head to rest on Blaine's shoulder. "That sounds… fun."

"It was," Kurt said. "I missed you, though."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, moving his arm to lie across Blaine's torso and hug him close. "I always miss you."

"I always miss you, too," Blaine replied, though there was a bit of confusion in his voice.

"I'm not mad at you anymore," he said. "And right now, I just really want to be close to you."

He let out a sigh of relief, wrapping his arms around Kurt. "Oh, thank God."

"I love you," Kurt mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against Blaine's shoulder.

"I love you, too," Blaine replied. He lifted a hand to tilt Kurt's head up, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Kurt sighed happily into the kiss, his tongue tracing across Blaine's lips just to rememorize the taste and feel of them. "I missed this," he said.

"I promise to try to not mess things up like this ever again," Blaine said. "So that you don't ever have to go without."

"Such a gentleman," Kurt replied squeezing down on Blaine's side affectionately.

Blaine's arms tightened around him, and he could feel Blaine's heart pounding. "It's… I'm just so glad you're here."

"I always will be," Kurt murmured in reply, turning his head to look up at the stars. "Know any constellations? 'Cause I don't."

Blaine laughed, and Kurt's insides warmed at the feeling of Blaine's laughter reverberating through his own body. "See those three stars there, in a line?" he asked, reluctantly lifting a hand from around Kurt to point.

"Mm-hmm," Kurt agreed, following the direction of Blaine's finger.

"That'd be Orion's belt," Blaine said. "But other than that, I can't find anything. I'm pretty bad at constellations."

"Better than me," Kurt offered.

"Amazing," Blaine said. "There is something I'm better than you at. Pinch me."

"Shut up," he said, laughing.

"I think you might have to make me," Blaine said teasingly.

"And how would you suggest I do that, hm?" Kurt asked, grinning at him.

"Oh, I don't know," Blaine said. "I'm sure you can come up with something."

Kurt sat up for a second, looking down at Blaine, who was looking back up at him, his eyes just barely catching what little light there was available in the night (but they always, always had that little glimmer to them, especially when he was teasing Kurt). There was still that smile on his face, which probably hadn't disappeared from his face since Kurt had told him he wasn't mad at him anymore. God, Blaine had such a pretty smile. Kurt blinked, biting his lip before allowing himself to just grin. "I'm sorry," he said. "I meant to kiss you."

"And I can't help but notice you didn't," Blaine said, though there was no sign of upset in his tone.

"I just... this is embarrassing."

Blaine blinked. "Kurt, honey, you're talking to me," he said. "My life is just one embarrassing event after another. It can't be that bad."

"Okay," Kurt said, smiling a bit to himself as he continued to look down at Blaine. "I just... I got distracted by you. Like, I just looked at you and I had one of those moments. I completely forgot what I was about to do and I just looked at you and thought how completely, ridiculously lucky I am."

"Oh," Blaine said. In the darkness of the night, Kurt couldn't really tell for sure, but he had a feeling that Blaine was blushing. "I'm not sure about that. I think I'm the lucky one here."

"Trust me," Kurt said, "We've had this argument before. I will never not win-"

"That is debatable," Blaine said, frowning. "You always say you win, but there has never been any proof that you've one.

"Just can't let it go, can you?" Kurt asked, laughing. He dipped down to kiss Blaine's nose.

"Not until you let me win at least once," Blaine said.

"No can do, baby," he said, "I have a record to maintain." He moved so that he was lying on top of Blaine, chest to chest, his wings draped over them like a blanket in the cool night air. "Which reminds me... where are we going now, Blaine?"

Blaine blinked. "I don't have a plan," he said. "I wasn't able to foresee this happening." Kurt blinked at this, wondering if Blaine had thought, even briefly, that Kurt might end up not wanting to take him back.

His heart ached at the thought, leaning up to press a firm kiss to Blaine's lips, trying to convey to him _I love you more than anything in the world_ without words.

When Kurt pulled back, Blaine mumbled, "But this doesn't mean you win."

"I _do_ win that game, though," Kurt said. "I know what the plan is."

"But I don't have a plan," Blaine repeated, confused.

"Except you do. We both know you do, Blaine. It's been written in your eyes since the first time you told me you loved me."

"And what is this plan, exactly?" he asked, lifting up a hand to run his fingers through Kurt's hair.

"This plan, well, it's foolproof," Kurt murmured. "And it's adaptable, forever changing and fixing itself, but the plan itself stays intact perfectly throughout every twist and turn." He smiled fondly as Blaine's brow furrowed. "Your plan, Blaine, is simultaneously simple and exceedingly complicated: forever."

Blaine smiled, grabbing one of Kurt's hands and intertwining their fingers. He kissed the back of Kurt's hand, and whispered into it, "Forever."


	11. Epilogue

**And I guess that's that. My only excuse for why this took so long in getting to you is that part of me feels weird about actually finishing UTSFFTS (I am so sorry, I'm really the worst).**

* * *

><p>"Did you hear that?"<p>

Kurt blinked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he looked up at Blaine, who was sitting up slightly in bed. Missing his warmth already (it was ridiculously cold, no matter how high they tried to set the thermostat), Kurt reached up a hand to guide him back downwards. "Hear what?"

As if he had been heard, another round of knocks sounded, though the sound was faint.

"That," Blaine said. Then, as if feeling the need to clarify, he added, "The knocking. Someone is knocking on our door."

"The bedroom is far enough away from the door that we might not necessarily hear anyone knocking," Kurt said, frowning. "They don't have to know that we did."

"It could be important," he pointed out. "Why else would someone come knocking at the door at," he glanced at their alarm clock and blinked, his head jerking back as if he was physically struck by the time, "six o'clock in the morning?"

"Because they're rude?" he suggested, dropping his head back down onto Blaine's chest and wrapping his arms around his waist, as if to deter him from going to answer the door.

"Someone could be dead," Blaine protested. Gasping, he added, "It could be Millie from downstairs. She is getting up in years, oh, bless her heart—"

"No, stop," Kurt said. "I cannot believe I married a guy that says 'bless her heart'."

Blaine hummed. "First off, you eternal ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, you find it adorable. Second, you married me because I'm that guy."

"Can't prove that," Kurt mumbled with a fond roll of his eyes.

There was another set of four knocks at the door.

"Why are they not leaving?" Kurt asked, exasperated.

"It could be Rachel," Blaine said. "Maybe she's finally got a role on Broadway. Maybe she's here to celebrate."

"Not as six in the morning, she isn't," Kurt said, groaning as he turned his head to bury his face in his pillow. "Just go back to bed, it's probably that weird guy from down the hall that is either a serial killer or has the hots for you or maybe both. He probably wants to do your laundry."

"He does do laundry really well, though," Blaine said. "Folds neatly, uses fabric softener…"

Kurt jumped upward at that, his eyes wide and every inch of his body showing how startled he is. "You didn't!"

Blaine chuckled, shaking his head. Reaching a hand up to run his fingers soothingly through Kurt's feathers, he affirmed, "I didn't. But your reaction was so worth it."

He shook his head, letting out a long relieved breath of air. "You are the worst," he commented.

"You love me," Blaine said, cocking his head.

Just as Kurt opened his mouth to retort something about how Blaine should just keep telling himself that, there's another knock. That time, though, it was accompanied by a voice, "Kurt and Blaine! You need to let me in; I have some news for you guys! And it's really exciting!"

"Oh," Kurt said, "it's Jeff. We can easily ignore that."

"He's our friend," Blaine pointed out.

Kurt sighed. "Because of his knocking, you woke me up at an ungodly hour for non-recreational purposes."

"Non-recreational purposes," Blaine repeated with a smirk.

"You know."

"It hurts, you know, to know that my best friends in the entire world are ignoring me on such a momentous occasion," Jeff called out, knocking again.

Kurt sighed. "On a scale of one to ten," he said, "how exciting do you think Jeff's news actually is?"

"At any other time of day?" Blaine asked, "Probably, like, negative two. But at six in the morning, I'd like to think it's a seven or better."

"We don't really have any proof that Jeff sleeps anymore," Kurt mumbled. He threw an arm over Blaine's eyes. "Sleep," he said softly, "we're going back to sleep."

"Guys, I might start crying," Jeff called out. He started knocking again then, in a rhythm that sounded suspiciously like Do You Really Want to Hurt Me by Culture Club.

"Kurt," Blaine started, reaching up to push Kurt's arm away from his face.

"Just ignore it," Kurt mumbled, holding his arm firmly in place. "He'll go away."

"It's Jeff," he pointed out. "Jeff doesn't just go away."

"I have officially been here for five minutes. I decided to give you guys five minutes," Jeff said, "And you ignored me. Luckily, I have my key."

"No," Kurt said. "Why did we ever give him the key to our apartment? Why did we ever think that was a good idea?"

"He wouldn't do it," Blaine said. "He does respect personal space and all that."

Just about as soon as those words were out of his mouth, their bedroom door, which had been open just a crack, was flung open and there was suddenly a third body in their bed. "Kurt and Blaine!" Jeff greeted brightly, sitting up on his knees.

"Oh my God," Kurt groaned.

Jeff blinked, looking down at the two men in bed. "Are you guys naked?" he asked with a grin. Seing the way Blaine was starting to blush, he let out a loud bark of laughter. "You guys are totally naked. You guys are naked and you sleep naked together because you live alone together now and you're totally comfortable with each other, oh my God."

Kurt sighed, tugging up the blanket and holding it as if he thought that Jeff might try to grab it. "Don't act like you and Nick don't sleep naked."

"Well, I'll give you that," Jeff said with a shrug, though the grin on his face didn't fade at all, still shining way too bright for six in the morning. "But it's totally different." Smirking, he added, "And besides, it's not like me and Nick sleep."

"More than I needed to know," Blaine said. Sighing, he rubbed his face and looked at Jeff. "What has you so perky this early?"

Though Kurt hadn't thought that it was possible, Jeff's grin grew even wider. "God, this is just so exciting," he said. He was nearly vibrating with excitement, and Kurt couldn't help but feel a bit nervous.

"What is it?" Blaine asked, and when Kurt looked over, he saw that he was grinning nearly as wide as Jeff was, just from Jeff's excitement. Kurt rolled his eyes affectionately, wishing he could pretend to not find how easily Blaine latched on to other people's excitement adorable. "Oh my God, did Nick propose?"

Jeff blinked, looking a bit taken aback by that suggestion. "No, he… Wait, is he planning to? Has he said anything to you guys about…? Actually, never mind, even if he has, I don't want to know," he said quickly, his words tumbling slightly over one another.

Blaine furrowed his brow. "Then what…?" he asked, his voice trailing off as he wracked his brain for other possibilities.

"You don't have any ideas?" he asked, glancing between Kurt and Blaine. "None whatsoever?"

"No," Kurt said with a sigh. "I assure you, I have no idea what has you breaking into our apartment, ridiculously giddy, at six in the morning. Please just tell us."

Jeff clapped, undeterred by the tired look that Kurt was giving him. "A law has been passed," he said.

"What kind of law?"

Jeff bit his lips as if to keep himself from smiling (though failing miserably), rocking back and forth on his knees. "Do you have any guesses as to what kind of law it was?"

Blaine shook his head. "I mean, we haven't really been watching the news much recently, so…"

"The buying and selling of winged people as pets is now illegal!" Jeff all but yelled, clapping giddily.

Any comment that Kurt might have made about Jeff's volume was dead in his throat as the impact of the shouted words hit him.

"Are you… Tell me you're not kidding," Blaine said, his voice thick.

"I couldn't lie about this," Jeff said. "Turn on your TV; chances are it'll be on at least one of the news channels. It's kind of a big deal."

Kurt let out a laugh. "God, Jeff, I could kiss you right now, but I'm naked, and that's weird."

"Also your husband is right there," Jeff pointed out.

"He doesn't have to know," Kurt said with a wink, laughing as he reached over and grabbed at Blaine's hand.

Blaine blinked. "Wait," he said, looking a bit concerned, "what does this mean for, you know, everyone that was already bought?" Though he didn't say it out loud, they all knew that he was voicing his fear that Kurt might be taken away from him.

"They're, well, free," he replied. "I looked it up, too. They're all being given the choice, though I figure a lot of them aren't going to take it, especially not after so long. But I mean, it's great for them, regardless, because now they can have a voice if they're being abused, even if they don't leave." He glanced up at Kurt. "So you could leave, if you wanted to." As he said that, though, he gave a look that said that if he tried to leave, Jeff would cry, and one of the last things you wanted was for Jeff to cry because of your actions.

Kurt shook his head, but not before he saw the look on Blaine's face. It was one of apprehension and a bit of as he watched Kurt, slightly worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Kurt realized with a slight jolt that Blaine, even after all these years, was still the slightest bit concerned that he wouldn't want to stay if given the option. "Definitely not," he said, giving Jeff his best _bitch, please_ look. Once Blaine let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief, Kurt couldn't help his laughter starting to bubble up again and he reached up and pressed the heels of his hands into his cheeks. "Oh my God, it just keeps hitting me," he said. "This is… I knew they were _talking_ about it, but I never thought… I can't _believe_ it, this is so…" He trailed off again, laughing.

"Well, sunshine, believe it," Jeff said. He pulled out his phone and opened up NBC, then offered the phone to them. "Fox is also good for a laugh right now, because their coverage is only thinly veiling how upset they are by this whole thing. But this is more, you know, friendly."

Blaine leaned over and set his chin on Kurt's shoulder. "I like this," he said, pointing at the screen, "I like how they emphasized the loving relationships in addition to the, well, others."

Kurt smiled, turning his head and tilting it up to kiss the tip of Blaine's nose.

Jeff stood up quickly, as if he was afraid that the bed was about to burst into flames. "Anyways," he said, "I just wanted to make sure I shared the big news before anyone else. And I think this calls for celebration, and I just know you guys don't have enough booze in the kitchen."

"Some of us are—" Blaine started, but Jeff cut him off.

"I wasn't judging, just simply stating that the ratio of booze we have to booze we need to sufficiently get our party on is nowhere near where it should be," he said. Clapping his hands once, he added, "So I'm going to go on ahead and pick up Nick, and we'll see if any state store is open at this ungodly hour."

"Or you could just go to the grocery store and get some cheap beer or something, if the endgame is to get wasted," Kurt suggested.

"No, the endgame is to celebrate," Jeff said, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "In _style_." He turned to leave, fluttering a bit as he said, "This also gives you an opportunity to get dressed. If Nick and I get here and you are still naked, I am going to take that as consent to a four-way."

He looked over his shoulder at them with a grin, winking as he shut the bedroom door behind himself.

"You don't think he's _serious_, do you?" Kurt asked.

"I'm not taking any chances, is all I'm saying," Blaine said, moving to get up.

"Wait," Kurt said, drooping back down onto the bed and reaching up to pull Blaine down beside him. "Nick and Jeff live…" He frowned, his eyes moving as if across a map only he could see. "Well, they live a while away, and then they have to find a liquor store that's open, so it could be a couple hours."

Blaine smiled, sliding back under the covers and sliding one arm around Kurt. His other hand grabbed Kurt's and intertwined their fingers as he kissed Kurt's shoulder and murmured against his skin, "If we get roped into having sex with Nick and Jeff because we fell asleep or something, you're never living this down."

"Believe me, hon, I have a powerful ability to not sleep with Nick and Jeff," he said. "And besides, I don't think I could possibly fall asleep right now."

"Too excited?" Blaine asked, grinning.

"It's silly," Kurt said, "Because it's not like it actually _affects_ me, but…"

"No," Blaine said, "It makes total sense. I mean, this is… this is outstanding. Just think to when we first met—had the thought that this day would come ever even occurred to us?"

Kurt hummed in agreement. "I had hoped, you know, in that facility. I didn't pray, but you get the idea. But I never saw the whole pet trade being outlawed as a realistic possibility. It's just…" He laughed then, that same laugh that is pure excitement that needs to escape but has no other way to get out. "I'm still not even sure it's hit me, I'm not sure I can believe this."

Blaine grinned and tilted his head up, placing a peck on Kurt's lips. "Well believe it, baby, the world is _awesome_."

Kurt nuzzled his nose against Blaine's. "Indeed," he murmured, smiling.

For a second he considered what could have happened if things had gone differently, if this law had been passed before they met or shortly after. He would have never met Blaine, or most likely would have chosen to leave once he was given the opportunity. He wouldn't have given Blaine a chance, would he have? Blaine had told him countless times over the years that no matter what the circumstances had been, they would have met each other regardless. Kurt wasn't sure that that was true, really, but he was a romantic at heart and it was all hypotheticals anyways, so he was willing to accept it. But still, a quiet corner of his mind was grateful that the law hadn't been passed back then.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Blaine asked.

"I just love you," he said.

"You _just_ love me?" he asked, pouting.

"Shh, you," he said, grabbing his pillow and lightly hitting Blaine in the face with it.

"That is abuse," Blaine said, "And I don't know why there aren't laws saying that those of us without wings are allowed to leave our winged partners."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure part of the original contract said you could return me if I proved unsatisfactory, so."

Blaine smirked. "Good thing you're satisfactory, huh?"

"It's out of your hands now, actually," Kurt said. "I'm a free bitch!"

Blaine laughed, smiling one of those just-for-Kurt smiles that people had said would go away after a while but never had. "You are," he agreed.

Kurt scooted over, leaning his shoulders against Blaine and setting his chin on his shoulder. "I couldn't, you know," he said. "Leave. After about the first few weeks or so… I never would have been able to; it never would have crossed my mind. Just so you know." He sat up and pressed a kiss to Blaine's temple then got up off the bed. "And I think we ought to get dressed, hm?"

Blaine laughed, rolling his eyes fondly at Kurt's abruptness. "It's still too early," Blaine sighed, standing up. He tucked the blanket back into place behind him as he mumbled, "Upon further consideration, maybe having sex with Jeff wouldn't be that bad. I mean, Nick hasn't complained as far as I know, so I mean—"

"Honey?" Kurt asked, amused.

Blaine blinked. "Right," he said, "Rambling. We're already up anyways."

With that, they went through their regular morning routine, though this morning in place of the usual music blaring from their iHome, they turned on the television and had commentary on the law passing in the background. Like usual, though, their morning procedure was carried out with practiced ease, with smiles in the mirror and playfully bumping hips and wings and arms as they brushed their teeth.

By the time they finished, Jeff and Nick had, unsurprisingly, not returned yet.

"Chances of me being able to cook breakfast and us being able to eat it before they get here?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"Probably slim," Blaine said as he flopped backwards onto the couch, glancing up at the TV, where a commercial for the most recent iPhone (even _better_ than the even better ones from before, of course). "They just _know_ when there's food."

Kurt chuckled. "Everyone has a talent."

"True," Blaine said. "I can think of worse things."

He sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Screw it, I'm taking my chances," he said. "And I'm making waffles. Lots of them, because you just know they'll show up."

Blaine laughed, getting up from the couch to follow Kurt into the kitchen. He wasn't much of a cook, but waffles weren't really _that_ hard, when it came down to it.

They spent the remainder of the time before Nick and Jeff arrived taking a ridiculous amount of time to make waffles, tossing handfuls of flour and ripped up waffles at each other. To be fair, they _were_ trying to get the waffles into each other's mouths; it just turned out they both had awful aim.

When Nick swung open their door (they had only given Nick and Jeff one key to their apartment to share, though Kurt had a sneaking suspicion that that one key had turned into at least two since), he stopped short upon seeing the kitchen. In either hand was a bottle of champagne, though where his arms had been held up in triumph, they slowly dropped back down to his sides. "Dude," he said. "I wasn't anticipating this. This is a bit of a mess."

"Are those waffles?" Jeff said excitedly.

"They are," Blaine confirmed, laughing as Kurt frowned at the disarray around them as if he hadn't fully realized that they had been making a mess until now. Gesturing to a plate on the counter, he said, "Help yourself."

"After I get back," Jeff said. "We got a lot of champagne—because I figured we needed a classy beverage for getting our classy celebration drunk on, obviously—and when I say a lot, I mean a lot; we didn't have enough hands. So I need to get the rest from the car."

Nick turned his head to watch Jeff leave, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh once the door shut behind him.

"Problem, Nick?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick let out a loud laugh. "No," he said. "In fact, I think that we all are experiencing a distinct _lack_ of problems." He grinned at Kurt. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Nothing I did," Kurt said with a shrug, though his face donned a grin once more at Nick's statement.

"Still, pretty awesome," Nick said. "Pretty much the awesomest thing to happen in a while, if I do say so myself."

Kurt nodded, then blinked. "But the sigh?"

"I came to a decision a few weeks ago," he explained, sitting down at their kitchen table. "I realized that Jeff and I ought to get married, and if I didn't get to it soon, then he might ask me first, and I just really want to do this because he's always made the first move."

Blaine all but _squealed_, clapping his hands as he declared, "This is the best day ever."

Nick laughed. "But, see, I had been gathering up the courage to ask this weekend. But, well, this is really important, too."

"Are you saying we're not allowed to overload on happy things?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"Well, we can," Nick said, "But that can be dangerous. I wouldn't want to get engaged just to have my fiancé explode—knowing Jeff, it could actually happen."

They laughed. "Really, though," Kurt said, "Do it soon, or we might die of anticipation, you hear me?"

Blaine grinned. "And if you want to bounce any ideas off of us, we're okay with that."

"Which is code for 'please bounce ideas off of us'," Kurt said, grinning.

Nick laughed. "Sure," he said, "Of course."

"You—Welcome back!" Kurt called out, perhaps a bit too loudly to be subtle, as Jeff reappeared in the door.

"I have the rest of it," Jeff said, showing of the bottles in his hands (and seriously, how much was he anticipating drinking, because there was more than a bottle per person and that didn't seem right). "And fancy-ass champagne flutes."

"Fancy-ass plastic champagne glasses," Nick corrected, laughing.

"Wow, ducky, way to take the air right out of our _flutes_," Jeff said, dramatically placing his hand over his chest as if stricken. "They're called flutes, and that makes them fancy."

"My bad," he said with a shrug, and then added brightly to Kurt and Blaine, "I picked them out."

Jeff laughed, ruffling Nick's hair as he passed. "I couldn't be more proud," he said. He slowly transferred the champagne, flutes, and plate of waffles to the coffee table in the living room with the declaration, "We're all cuddling on the couch."

And so they did.

The rest of the day was spent on the couch watching the news coverage and, once that got boring, a marathon of movies of various genres. (By that point they were drunk enough that they decided to make it into a game: they would tie the movies together into an overarching storyline. This did not work out well. Calls came in from various friends and family members (the latter mostly Kurt's, of course) throughout the day, eager to express their delight that winged people were now legally seen as people as opposed to pets.

That evening, Kurt fell asleep cuddled against Blaine's side, wondering when it was that he'd stopped wishing that he'd been born 'normal', born without wings, and started being grateful that his life had always been a bit askew.

* * *

><p><strong>As a side note, if you're still interested in reading stuff from me and you're willing to put up with my inability to post within a reasonable timeframe, my attention will now by focused on The Pursuit of Adventure, the first chapter of which is already posted. If not, it was still nice to have you on <em>this<em> journey with me. Much love!**


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